The Grey Lord: Potterverse Lichdom
by nobodez
Summary: A confused dimensional traveller awakens in the Forest of Dean on October 31, 1981. He's been given ghastly powers and then left to his own devices. Will he rise into the Light, or will he descend into the Dark? Or, perhaps, will he take a third path, and become a Grey Lord? Self-insert with a twist. COMPLETE, UPDATED 09/18/13.
1. Chapter 1

It was a dark and stormy night.

Well, the first was obvious, and the second, well, it's Britain, so stormy is definitely plausible for the last night of October.

The Forest of Dean, second largest of the Royal Forests, over a hundred square kilometers of ancient woodlands, criss-crossed by roads, trails, and assorted hamlets. Had things not gone differently, in seventeen years, give or take a few months, two teenagers would, while camping, discover an ancient artifact that would allow them to defeat an evil that had been temporarily defeated seventeen years before.

Give or take a few months.

A few hundred kilometers away from the forest, in a small village not unlike many that dotted the English countryside, a godfather was handing over his motorcycle to a groundskeeper, intent on finding a betrayer.

For now, though, let us focus on the forest, particularly a dense part of the ancient woodland, the ground covered in fallen leaves and underbrush. Suddenly, as if by magic, someone, or something, appeared. They were thin, emaciated, one could almost call them skeletal, and dressed, if one was charitable in using that word, in barely more than tattered rags. Beside them was an ornate box, sealed, and topped with a standard yellow C5 envelope, addressed, in green ink, to "nobodez".

Suddenly the body seized, and whomever they were, seemed to be panicking. After attempting to hyperventilate, and failing quite dismally after discovering that they had no lungs with which to hyperventilate with, they passed out. A half hour later, they seized awake once more, and after determining that, no, they weren't hallucinating, or else on a very bad trip that didn't look to be ending anytime soon, they took stock of the situation.

"Well, frak," they said, though were quite surprised to be able to speak, what with the whole lack of lungs, and not to mention the rest of their pulmonary system with which to speak with. Then, after looking around, they found the envelope, and after removing the contents, a folded sheet of A4 paper, they began to read in the surprisingly bright waxing crescent moon.

"Hello," they read aloud, their voice seeming to have a few sub-harmonic echoes lending it a distinctly sinister demeanor. "I'm sure you're quite freaked out at the moment."

"No fraking shit sherlock," they snarked, then continued.

"… with you being…well undead and all but there is a good reason for all this. You must entertain me."

"Entertain you?" they asked aloud. They then looked around. "Who the frak are you?" They then shouted, "WHO THE FRAK ARE YOU?"

Only the startled sounds of animals fleeing from the shout of the undead responded.

They then continued reading, though only spoke aloud the pertinent parts.

"… turned you into a lich … undead sorcerer of unimaginable power … total confidence … phylactery …pocket dimension … one creature per day … crossbows … reverse engineering … exotic materials … same universal plane … un-vistable … grand adventure … magic book … spell, rituals, and upgrades … finger tips …" and this they paused and looked at the white tips of their distal phalanges. They rubbed the tip of their thumb, now only a bone, across the tip of their index finger, and surprisingly, felt it, but then, as a lich, they had to expect some magical senses. They then returned their attention to the letter, "… scan and store … can be damaged … fumation … directly related … strict and unbending … Forest of Dean, Halloween, 1981."

Just then they stopped reading, then chuckled, then gawfawed, then outright laughed out loud, eventually succumbing to something close to maniacal laughter. A few minutes later, after discovering that their lack of lungs made laughing for a long time almost enjoyable, they finished the letter, and watched as it, in a flash of bright light not unlike that which characterized the nearly omnipotent powers of the being Q on Star Trek, was either transformed into, or replaced with, a thin, nondescript black book. At first glance it looked almost indistinguishable from the notebooks favored by techies and hipsters over thirty years from now in an alternate future.

The lich, intrigued, opened the book, and smiled when, on the front endpaper, or rather end-parchment, a familiar symbol was illustrated. It consisted of a crudely drawn circle, almost exactly the same style as found in the Intel logo, that served as the head of a stick figure, though one that was missing its body and had two-fingered hands. The lich knew this symbol, for it was one they had designed, in the past which was an alternate future, to accompany their nickname on the internet. A stick figure with no body, appropriate for "nobodez".

The lich then began to page through the book, discovering spells, rituals, and "upgrades", as the letter described. To the lich's horror, though, most of them where either quite gruesome in utility or frightening in their brutality. Others, though, seemed more useful. Luckily the lich had memorized the "proper" ratio for gunpowder, 75% saltpeter, 15% charcoal, and 10% sulfur, and so would be able to give their minions at least basic firearms until they could get to either a military base, a terrorist hideout, or across the "pond" to the United States and their more liberal firearms laws.

The lich known as nobodez only stopped reading the book when the sun rose above the trees, casting the lich's shadow across the book. With a snap the book was closed and stock taken of the environment.

"I'm going to need a backpack, and then I'm going to need a safe deposit box," nobodez said to themself. "And quite possibly I'm going to need minions. Oh yes, minions are a definite." Nobodez punctuated their decision with a solid three minutes of maniacal laughter.

- Edited 08/26/13


	2. Chapter 2

nobodez knew that they'd be unable to stop Dumbledore from placing Harry at the Dursleys, so that wasn't an option, and as a neophyte necromancer, they didn't want to go up against Albus, Minerva, and Rubius when the sun set. So, they had to play a long game. The first step, and easiest, would be to determine if they could stop the impulsive Black from either going after Wormtail, or at least prevent him from getting thrown into Azkaban without a trial.

Luckily the spell book had a spell for illusions, and illusions were something they'd need, especially if they were planning on going into the civilized world. "Or even the magical one," they added aloud as a joke.

With a bit of concentration they were able to produce an illusion of how they looked before. Six foot tall, twenty-five stone, or at least the appearance of twenty-five stone, with long brown hair tied back at the base of the skull. They were dressed in black, or at least the illusion was, with black boots, black jeans, a black t-shirt, a black button-down shirt, and a black hooded sweatshirt. Nobodez picked up their phylactery and their spell book, and began to make their way out of the forest.

It took longer than expected to find a road, though mainly because they had chosen the absolute worst direction to start going in, and had they chosen almost any other, direction, including the one opposite, they would have reached a road in nearly a third of the time.

But, they were on a road, however rough, and continued headed in the same direction, roughly north, and an hour or so later, they found themself being passed by a lorry, and then, steadily, as they progressed further and further from their starting point, and closer and closer to civilization, passed by more and more vehicles. Eventually, they came across a clearing in the forest, and at the intersection ahead, saw a stereotypical English country inn, what they'd soon find out was the Speech House Hotel.

Luckily for nobodez, the illusion also carried a vocal illusion, though not a tactile one, so they had to be careful.

"Hello," said the nice older lady in greeting as nobodez cautiously walked into the Hotel.

"Um, hello, I know this is going to sound weird, but where am I?" asked nobodez. While they knew they were in the Forest of Dean, and that the aforementioned forest was in England, that's about all they knew.

"Got lost in the woods dear?" asked the woman.

"Something like that. You might not believe me, but I woke up in the middle of the forest, and I've been walking for a few hours now, and aside from a few trucks and cars, this is the first sign of civilization I've seen," they replied. They knew that the key to a reliable lie was couching it in truth, so it'd be easier to remember under duress.

"You look surprisingly good for someone who just walked through the forest," said the woman, doubting the claim.

nobodez looked down, and noticed a rather obvious flaw in the illusion, it looked just the same as it had when they cast it, hours before, and had changed not at all, not a rip, nor a stain, nor even a crease that wasn't there upon casting. Something they'd have to correct the next time they cast the spell. "Ah, yes, well, how about I just woke up a few minutes ago, and my mates stole my wallet?"

The woman rolled her eyes, "That's a bit more believable," she said. She then glanced up at the clock, "Were you staying in Cinderford or Coleford?"

"Cinderford," replied nobodez, though wasn't sure why the woman was asking, nor where either place was.

"The bus to Cinderford should be through in a few hours, I'll give you enough for the fare to get you back to your hotel there, but that's it. No booze, no food, no room to let, just enough to get you on your way," she replied.

"Thank you, most kindly," said nobodez.

As they were waiting for the bus, they realized that, as a side effect of being an undead monster, there was a bit of a problem with people being either afraid or at the least antagonistic to them. Luckily the woman at the Speech House was overly kind, and so her antagonism just got him a ride into town, rather than a swift expulsion. They spent the rest of the wait reading their spell book, hoping to find a way to enhance the illusion, and perhaps some way to charm or befuddle the minds of those they met. While they didn't want to start out their new life, or unlife as it were, with a crime spree, they need to get the supplied they needed to get their plans to succeed.

The ride to Cinderford, and out of the Forest of Dean, was uncomfortable for both nobodez and the rest of the passengers of the bus. For nobodez because it required a bit of adjustment to the illusion to sit down on the bus, and the other passengers because of the undead aura.

Once in Cinderford, the lich began their journey in earnest, and after canopying a map of the area it into their spell book, they realized that it wouldn't be easy to get from where they were to where they wanted to go. Getting to London, and particularly Charing Cross Road to get to Diagon Alley, was not going to be easy, and it might just be easier to walk than to figure out how to hitchhike there instead. At least in London, or even Birmingham or Bristol, the other nearby cities, they'd be able to go after the criminal element to acquire funds, but until there, money would be more difficult.

It got the lich thinking that either they would need to compromise their ethics, or their mission, to get things done expediently. Perhaps it would do Sirius good to spend a few days in Azkaban to realize that he needed to be less impulsive.

Perhaps not, though, if the Ministry of Magic affair, that would have happened in '96, would have been any indication of what Azkaban would teach Sirius. Well, nobodez would make it a point to inform the man he rescues from Azkaban of what they thought about impulsive behavior (that it had it's place, but not when one's life, or unlife, was on the line).

"It's going to be a long walk to London at this rate," the lich told themself, and began to walk along the A4151 towards the A48, and eventually, London.

- Updated 08/26/13


	3. Chapter 3

The trip into London, again, took longer than expected, but the hundred and twenty miles, give or take a few, was walked in just over a day and a half, since nobodez had gotten distracted a few times, and stopped at a few libraries, first in Gloucestershire, and then more importantly in Oxfordshire (though with so many books there, it was put on the "go back and steal everything" list). Plus, walking through South England in the middle of the night tended to get boring. But, on the morning of the third of November, the lich, now looking to be only about fourteen stone rather than twenty-five, walked into the Leaky Cauldron pub.

"What can I do for your stranger?" asked the Publican, a balding hunchback of a man. He looked suspiciously at the oddly-dressed stranger.

"Just looking for entrance to the Alley," replied the stranger. "I've lost my wand, and I've never been good at apparating."

"Ah, tough luck," said the publican. "I'll have my son open the way for you." He then turned and called into the kitchen, "Tom, get out here, there's a man who wants to get into the Alley."

nobodez was intrigued to hear the name, having assumed the Publican was Tom. Instead a man in his late twenties, barely younger than the lich had been, before, came out.

"You wanting into the Alley?" asked Tom.

"Yes, thank you. Lost my wand, and I'm rubbish at apparating," explained nobodez.

"You a Yank?" asked Tom.

"Used to be, just moved here to Jolly Old England, though I've yet to find a place," explained the lich.

"Well, luckily you just missed out on the dangerous bit, what with looking all muggle and all," said Tom. "You-Know-Who just got snuffed a few days back, and with his lieutenants in custody, it's much safer than even a week ago."

"I'm sorry, who?" asked the lich, glad that as an undead monstrosity emotions like amusement were softened, and the illusion cut even that pale imitation of emotion to a bare minimum, unless of course they desired to express emotion, then it heightened it instead.

"You-Know-Who," explained Tom, as if it was obvious.

"I'm sorry, I don't," said nobodez, glad they no longer felt the need to repress the laughter that the small prank would otherwise elicit.

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" asked Tom, hoping for some sort of recognition, but received just a head shake in response. "The Dark Lord?"

"Grindlewald?" asked nobodez, purposefully getting the reference wrong to string the future publican along.

"No, he was defeated ages ago, no, this one was," and Tom paused in the back yard of the pub, at the entrance to Diagon Alley. "Lord Voldemort," he said softly.

The lich just shrugged, "Eh, never heard of him. I've just flown in from the States myself, hoping to make a new life here in England, so to speak."

"Never … heard?" stuttered Tom.

"Guess your Dark Lord isn't as infamous as you thought," said the lich, repressing the urge to express the smile that their previous life experience would insist be plastered on their face for the prank.

"Oh … well … guess so," said Tom hesitantly, before shaking his head, and opening the entrance to the Alley for the strange American.

"Thank you," said nobodez, passing Tom, and being careful not to brush up against him. While he could get the feet and hands to interact right through the illusion, arms, legs, and the rest of their body was still just an illusion over bones.

The lich walked down Diagon Alley, noticing the darkened entrance to Knockturn Alley, as well as a few other businesses they knew from the books. And just the books, for the Alley wasn't anything like the movies. They were, though, able to find the bookstore, Flourish and Blotts, where they planned to put the duplicative powers of their spell book to good use. Hopefully the experiments they'd done at various along the way, with removing unwanted romance novels from the spell book's contents, would work with the more magical books within. For they had no intention of even trying to read any of Lockhart's books, even if he'd likely not written any as of yet.

Two hours of "browsing" later, and after copying the entire stock of Flourish and Blotts into their spell book, the lich exited the book store and made their way back down the Alley, knowing that without any coin, or any money at all, they had no need to go into Gringotts. After coming nearly back to the Cauldron entrance, they turned and made their way down the darkened Knockturn Alley.

"We don't need mudbloods like you pollutin' our street," said a rather gruesome looking character as the lich got deep with Knockturn.

"I wouldn't say I'm a mudblood," said the lich, for truthfully until a day and a half before they'd been but a 'Muggle', though they detested that appellation.

"So you're a Yank half blood?" asked the would-be mugger.

"I've not got any blood to have half of," said the lich, having worked on this bit for a few hours outside of Oxford. "You see, my old lady, she took everything in the divorce." Just then, nobodez dropped the illusion, "All I got left is my bones."

nobodez had been practicing more than just their illusions and their ability to walk and read at the same time. They'd also been practicing the more practical aspects of lichdom, that of the ability to channel negative energy. While they weren't quite at the "touch of death" stage, being immune to almost any offensive spell, save a well-aimed bone-breaker, the death of the mugger was inevitable.

As the last of the would-be mugger's soul was drained by the lich, they shuddered, as everything the mugger knew flowed into their mind. Luckily the lich no longer felt bad about killing the mugger, for they knew that the mugger, one Alex Smith, was a most despicable character, and likely would have joined Riddle in his quest had Smith been more skilled. And skilled he was not, for not only had he been killed by an unarmed lich, but he'd barely passed enough OWLs to maintain his wand, and had dropped out before even attempting his NEWTs.

But now nobodez knew much more about the Wizarding World, about what it was like to live in Slytherin, what it was like to cast magic, and what it was like to use magic and cast wanded spells.

They then looked down at the dead body, "Waste not, want not." They began to search their would be mugger, taking the wand first, and after realizing that the illusion didn't actually give them any pockets, stripped Smith's body of his robe, pouch (containing all of five knuts and two sickles, as well as over a dozen pawn tickets and a key to a flat), and even shoes. Then, realizing that, if just left here, Smith's dead body would attract more attention that they desired, retrieved their spell book.

With the book in hand, they began casting a spell, and after a few minutes, mainly accounting for inexperience, sent Alex Smith's body to the Jupiter-sized pocket dimension under their control. Smith would hopefully serve as a pattern for a magic-capable undead minion, as the skeletal warriors, while interesting, left much to be desired in the subtlety department.

nobodez, using the knowledge stolen from Alex Smith's drained soul, returned to Smith's flat, back under the fourteen stone illusion, and began to second phase of their plan. The Dursleys would take a few years before leaving their indelible mark upon Harry Potter, and Sirius' impulsiveness needed to be punished for a few more days. Plus, after learning about Dementors from Smith, they had an idea about how to both grow their own power, and limit the powers of both the Ministry and the Death Eaters.

- Updated 08/26/13


	4. Chapter 4

The lich had discovered that safe deposit boxes were hard to come by when you've got no identification. Money was no longer a problem, as nobodez was exploiting the pound to galleon exchange rate in comparison to the mundane price of gold. Unfortunately, time was slipping away, and by the time the lich realized that they'd finally amassed enough resources, including the ability to summon ghoulish mages that had the magical talent of a sixth-year Hogwarts dropout (as gifted by Alex Smith and the half dozen other idiotic blood purists that had tried to tangle with the undead monster), it was the one-year anniversary of their arrival in the Forest of Dean.

"Well, so much for saving Sirius," the lich said to themself as they read the Daily Prophet's article on the one-year anniversary of the defeat of "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named".

"Perhaps it is time that I made my public debut?" the lich asked themself. Then with a nod, they left the flat, still being rented under the name of Alex Smith, and went out in Knockturn Alley. The illusion had improved to a point where, with a bit of preparation, they could perfectly interact with almost anybody, if only because only their body was illusionary, the clothes they wore were not. And since gloves weren't exactly unheard-of as a piece of fashion in the Wizarding World, only the lich's illusionary face was exposed. This disguise wouldn't work as well in Miami or Majorica, but here in London, it worked perfectly fine.

A few minutes later the bell above the door rung, and into Olivander's Wand shop stepped the illusioned lich.

"That's quite the disguise you've got there," said Olivander. "Though, I'm not sure I want to know why you've got no skin on your face."

"I've got a joke I could tell you, but only seven men have heard it, and they're all dead," replied the lich. "So, instead, I'll just say that, for the time being, I have no quarrel with you, and I hope to find a compatible wand in this fine establishment."

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd come by," said Ollivander, retrieving his magical measuring tape as he advanced on the lich. Unlike their original illusion, their current illusion had only a passible resemblance to their former self. They were still six feet tall, but instead of an overweight man, they looked more like a well-dressed muggle wearing a fashionable wizarding robe.

"You know of me?" asked the lich, surprised.

"A strange American arrives days after You-Know-Who's death, and mentions to the publican of the Leaky Cauldron that they lost their wand and was bad at apparition, but is never actually seen exiting the Alley via the Cauldron again. I expected you months ago, but you're here now, and I finally get to find your wand," explained Ollivander, seemingly excited.

"Come now, we both know that you know his name, and really, he's been dead for a year, shouldn't the fear be gone by now?" asked nobodez.

Ollivander looked surprised, "I assume to don't mean His Lordly name?"

"It's a Riddling matter, don't you think?" asked the lich, so used to speaking in puns that it had become second nature, though so far they'd only shared it with seven people, who also happened to be dead and their bodies used as the template for the lich's ghoul wizards.

"Ah, so, not quite the ignorant American young Tom made you out to be, then," said Ollivander. "Which is your wand arm?"

The lich shrugged, "No idea, really. Never really had a proper wand before today. I've used a couple, off and on, but they weren't good matches, and I got equal use either dexter or sinister." They spread first their right, and then their left hand, still gloved, in example.

Ollivander looked intrigued, "Well, which hand do you favor when writing or doing find detail work?"

"I write with my right hand, and use it for detail work, though my left is stronger, more for gross motor functions, so to speak," explained the lich.

Ollivander nodded, "Well, you should practice with both hands then." With a gesture the magical measuring tape began its work. As it did, Ollivander continued his questioning, "When were you born?"

"While I was born in February, I celebrated my thirtieth birthday two weeks ago," the lich replied cryptically. "Though technically, I could say I'd be born in just over two years."

"Time travel of more than a day isn't possible," declared Ollivander, though didn't look overly surprised. Either he knew more than he admitted, or he had a marvelous poker face. Perhaps both.

"Well, it was more diagonal than strictly backwards," admitted the lich. "Oh, and is there a limit on wands I can purchase?"

"While officially there isn't, it's commonly held that a proper wizard, or witch, has but one wand, one that has been matched to them by a professional wand crafter," explained Ollivander.

"Ah, good, then you'll be getting more than just seven galleons from me today," said the lich. "I'm not a proper wizard, nor a proper witch for that matter, and I plan on having every advantage I can get in a fight."

"And the wands you borrowed since arriving here?" asked Ollivander, as the measuring tape made it's final measurement.

"I've returned them to their former owners, as while they worked, they weren't, as the saying goes, proper matches," replied the lich.

What followed was something not dissimilar to something that would have occured in just under nine years, when a famous Boy-Who-Lived received his first wand. Finally, four hours later and five "good" matches, and one "excellent" match later, the gold finally passed hands between the lich and Ollivander.

"Who should I report purchased these wands, when the Ministry performs its inevitable audit?" asked Ollivander.

"Leonard McCoy," replied the lich with a smile.

"Really?" asked Ollivander.

"Well, I have been known to be called Bones, though I realize that it might get confused with another, local, family," added nobodez.

"I see, well, until next time, Mr. McCoy," said Ollivander, who began to put away the small mountain of wands that had rejected the lich. He knew there was something off about this so-called Bones, as all six on the wands had been rather macabre in theme, with three yews and three hollys, all made with cores from the same dementor-killed Welsh Green.

"And it's Doctor McCoy," said the lich, just before existing the shop, getting an idea for another alternate identity, one that would serve better than nobodez the lich or Doctor Leonard McCoy the American Wizard.

- Updated 08/23/13


	5. Chapter 5

It was early April, 1983, when a well-dressed gentlemen walked into the Chancery Lane Safe Deposit Company, also known as the London Silver Vaults, located less than twelve hundred meters from the center of Diagon Alley (or rather, the center of the block where Diagon Alley's entrance was on Charing Cross, since the location of the Alley itself was rather nebulous). As there was an appointment, the gentleman was expected.

"We had a bit of a book going for if someone was actually going to show up for this appointment or not," said the thirty-something man in a business suit as he met the gentleman with the appointment.

"I get that a lot," said the man. "I'm not sure what my parents were thinking when they named me, but I guess it worked out okay."

"So, you really are Doctor John Watson?" asked the astonished business man.

"It's a Doctorate of History rather than of medicine, but yes," the gentleman, Doctor Watson, said. He appeared to be in his mid twenties, with a black goatee and mustache, and long black hair pulled into a tail at the top of his neck. His suit was well tailored, though he wore it without a tie, mixing the image of the New Wave twenty-something with a well-heeled gentleman.

"So, what can we do for you today, Doctor Watson?"

"I'd like to secure a safe deposit box," Watson responded. "I've something that I need to keep safe, and when I read that not even the bombs of World War Two could break the vaults here, I knew that was the right place to put it."

"Is it anything illicit?" he was asked, not getting a good feeling from the "Good Doctor".

"No, nothing like that, it's just that it's very special to me, and while I've been keeping it in my flat, I'm just about to put myself into the spotlight, so to speak, and I'd rather it be in a safer locale. It's just a box of keepsakes, nothing much, but it's practically a piece of my soul."

"Of course, of course," replied the man. He then inquired as to the size of the item to be stored.

Doctor McCoy reached into the inside of his coat, and extracted an elegantly carved gilded box, about ten centimeters square and five centimeters tall, "It's just a small little thing, but it means the world to me."

"Of course, Doctor Watson," said the man. "That looks like it'll fit in out Class A box, our most affordable."

"Thank you," said the Doctor. "I'd like to secure it for a decade or so."

"So long?" asked the Chancery Lane representative, surprised.

"I'd rather not worry about it, and I'm likely to be moving around for the next year or five, so I'd rather not risk missing the lease invoice."

"You realize we'll have to pro-rate the cost."

"Naturally," replied the Doctor.

It took another two hours, and a bit of hand waving by the Doctor to convince the salesman that his credentials were sufficient, but eventually the golden box was safely secured within the vaults beneath Chancery Lane, the security of which rivaled that of their magical counterpart less than a mile away run by the goblins. That most of the Doctor's enemies would know him by a different name, as well as a different face, and he'd be obliviating the salesman once he was done anyway, meant that there was less risk involved here.

Plus, Doctor Watson, or rather the lich nobodez, knew just how secure Gringotts could be. Two break-ins in less than seven years, more than the none in nearly a hundred years with the mundane option.

After covering his tracks, including the timed notice-me-not and muggle-repelling charm on his phylactery, and fumating back to Alex Smith's flat on Knockturn Alley, nobodez dropped their illusion. "Ah, it feels good to be myself again," the lich said to themself. They then strode to their study, the former bedroom, and looked between the four tables they were currently working at.

The first held a disassembled Heckler & Kock MP5 submachine gun, sourced from a now-dead arms fence in Brixton. They had perfected the duplication charm in the magazine, exploiting one of the laws of magic, and allowing for the weapon to never run out of ammunition. A cooling charm along the barrel, along with a slew of repair charms throughout the weapon, kept it functioning even during prolonged automatic fire. They'd even adapted some of the basic defense jinxes to give it a "stun" setting. The only problem now was to place the runes to power the charms indefinitely and reassemble it. Once that was done, they'd send it to the Demesne for the undead there to replicate, and then arm their undead minions with it. While it made the warriors equal in deadliness to the mages, the mages still had the utility of magic, though when a dozen warriors could be summoned for the same effort as a single mage, sometimes quantity had a quality all its own.

The second held the defensive counterpart to the submachine gun, and based on ideas from cross-time (since really, uptime would imply that where they came from could have possibly come from where they had arrived, which just wasn't the case), was actually not the different in appearance to the original scale mail that the warriors wore. The scales were now made from kevlar-reinforced ceramic plates, but otherwise, the basic appearance wasn't that different. Like the firearm, though, the tough part was integrating magic into it to enhance it beyond the technological. An unbreakable charm, linked with a cushioning charm, would make the armor properly bullet-proof, but that would only work against mundane enemies. nobodez was attempting to link a limited area version of one of the more effective shield charms, which protected against almost any Dark Magic, save the unforgivables, into a self-charging rune set, but without having actually taken Ancient Runes, and since all of the unsavory characters that they'd soul drained hadn't gotten much past the OWLs, let alone NEWT-level Ancient Runes, it was proving most difficult, despite having practically every textbook on the subject available. The more generic shield charms were working, and a version with that already integrated had been sent to the Demesne for replication, but since their warriors were already immune to the Unforgivables, making them immune to everything else would be quite useful (especially if they decided to use living minions in the future). They'd only be equipping ghoulish warriors with the armor, since they had other plans for undead warriors, mainly integrating the defensive magic into the bones themselves, rather than into armor, but that would be for after the next phase of their Cunning Plan.

The third held a leather backpack, which was in the process of being turned into a handy haversack. The expansion charms were easy, it was the retrieval charms linked with the intent of the wearer that was proving difficult. They were this close to just calling it good enough by having it being accessible by anyone, since the only way they could figure out to limit it was using moke skin, and that limited access to the person who put it in the bag in the first place. Secure, but not easily applied to a legion of minions.

The fourth and final held a pile of books, almost exclusively mundane or dark, and to a book exceedingly rare, that they were in the process of putting into their spell book. With nearly over a million tomes already scanned, an index, and a search function, were actually the current endeavor. Serendipity was nice (finding what you weren't looking for because finding what you were looking for was so darn difficult), but sometimes they just wanted to check the differences between the third and tenth editions of "Hogwarts: A History" (as Hermione would have noted, sometimes the truth is omitted to protect the guilty). They were also hoping to produce some sort of hyperlink facsimile for the textbooks, allowing something akin to Wikipedia, but of a magical nature, but again, it was a slow process exacerbated by a lack of education.

Once the first, second, and third projects were complete, though, nobodez would enact the next phase of their Cunning Plan.

Well, it was less a Cunning Plan, and more of Plan Q, and it involved a full frontal assault on Azkaban. The first half dozen plans were to clue the major players known to the lich onto the nature of Sirius Black's incarceration, but not a single one of them lasted beyond the bureaucracy of the Ministry of Magic. The next half dozen had involved solo or small unit assaults, which had all ended in defeat.

Plan M had been successful, but that just gave nobodez the Resurrection Stone, which was currently waiting for the lich's soul drain to be of sufficient power to drain magical power as well as knowledge. Waste not, want not after all.

Plans N, O, and P involved attempts at getting the Locket, Diadem, and Diary horcruxes, but had all failed. The Grimmauld Place townhouse had been impossible to get into without being a Black or having the permission of a Black to enter. Hogwarts was a dud, since the wards kept out those not invited onto the grounds, let alone the seventh floor corridor. And Malfoy Manor had cost them a dozen mages and twice as many warriors and they'd only gotten halfway up the walk from the gate.

Plan Q, though, based on the lessons learned from Plans G, H, I, J, K, and L, looked to be a winner, as they'd learned that Dementors did nothing to undead, but a dozen Aurors and Hit Wizards could. They also learned that Dementors were a type of undead, and hopefully once Azkaban was taken, they'd be able to control one enough to entrap it, and thus, learn how to create new ones. Dementor minons were a Good Thing when the fear aura only affected the living.

- Updated 08/26/13


	6. Chapter 6

Padfoot sat, head in paws, as he listened to the seventh assault on Azkaban in as many months. The first had come a month after the one-year anniversary of the death of Lord Voldemort, or rather, the one-year anniversary of his imprisonment for allowing his best friend and his wife to be betrayed by the Rat. He felt that he deserved it here, that this was his penance for allowing the Rat to betray Prongs and Lily.

The first assault had lasted barely a minute, and seemed to only involve the pair of guards that watched the pier. The second assault, a week later, had involved more of the guards, and had sounded like it involved firearms, though Padfoot was only tangentially familiar with the muggle weapons, so it may just have been fireworks.

The third and fourth attacks were a week later, only a day apart, and had been the first to involve the guards stationed inside the prison itself, though again, had failed. What was most interesting to Padfoot, in addition to the use of firearms, which the pureblood bigots of the Death Eaters either knew little about or refused to use, was that there were no fatalities, the attackers having used only stunning or disabling attacks, rather than the standard Death Eater Killing Curse.

The fifth and sixth attacks had both breeched the prison itself, though only barely, and that only because the DMLE had reinforced the guards. Instead of the dozen guards stationed at Azkaban at any one time, mainly hit wizards with an auror supervisor, instead two dozen hit wizards and a dozen aurors had been stationed at Azkaban.

What Padfoot had also noticed was that the Dementors hadn't really taken notice of any of the battles, as if whomever, or whatever, was attacking had no emotions for them to feed off of.

This seventh battle seemed to involve almost an order of magnitude more attackers than the last assault, and from what Padfoot had overheard for the guards, that one had involved a half dozen wizards and four times as many muggles, or rather, attackers using muggle weapons rather than magic.

Suddenly Padfoot perked up, as he heard the battle enter the hall outside his cell. Knowing that as the Grim he'd be unable to see through the small window on his door, he shifted into Sirius and stood up to look.

Four aurors were making a fighting retreat down the hall, two covering with bunker shields and two more attacking with everything short of the unforgivables. Sirius had heard, as Padfoot, that whatever was attacking were somehow immune to the unforgivables. As he looked out the small, barred window of his cell door, he realized that the armored men assaulting the prison were pretty much immune to whatever spells the aurors threw at them as well. Bludgeoning hexes were absorbed, bone breakers deflected, and cutting curses severed nothing. Behind the dozen armored men, each firing a gun that appeared to be firing stunners rather than bullets, were a pair of robed wizards, though they wore red robes rather than the typical Death Eater black. And just behind the red robed wizards, strolling down the hall without a care in the world, was a man with wild brown hair in an oddly coloured muggle business suit, blue with rust red pinstripes.

At each cell door the man would stop, look inside, and either send a wandless stunner inside, or ignore it entirely. From what Sirius remembered of the prisoners on this hall, only the cells with death eaters in them were being stunned, the more generic criminals: arsonists, murderers, kidnappers, but not Death Eaters, were being ignored.

The gunmen and the robed wizards passed his door and Sirius saw that, instead of men, they were more like inferi, though with a bit more meat on their bones, so to speak. Then, the man in the muggle suit came up to the door, looked in, and smiled.

"Sirius Black?" the man asked, a hint of an Estuary accent fighting with a lingering neutral American one.

"Who's asking?" countered Sirius.

"You can call me the Emperor," replied the man with a bit of a flourish.

"The Emperor? Seems rather grandiose. I mean, even Voldemort only claimed to be a Lord," joked Sirius.

The man smiled, and Sirius seemed a bit shaken by the smile, "Well, it seems I've got slightly more grandiose ideas that the late, non-lamented, Dark Lord. I was wondering, though, how would you like to be released?"

"You're willing to free me?" asked Sirius, surprised.

"That's why I came here. Well … you and Bella," said the Emperor, as his ghoulish forces continued to advance down the hall, with the robed wizards just sending a stunner into each cell, rather than checking for whatever the so-called Emperor had been checking for.

"Bella? What do you want with her? You're not going to free her, are you?" asked Sirius.

"I will be taking her with me when I leave, but it's mainly because she has something I need in her vault. Once I've retrieved it, I plan on draining her soul … thus killing her," admitted the man, not an ounce of malice while describing the cold-blooded murder of Sirius' cousin.

"I thought a Dementor's Kiss didn't kill, only took the soul?"

"Well … it's not exactly a Dementor's Kiss, though it is quite similar. Mainly I need to get an item Riddle left with her, and then she'll have served her purpose and she'll be killed for her crimes," explained the Emperor.

"You're not exactly painting a bright picture of my future if I go with you," said Sirius, though he wasn't sure who this 'Riddle' was.

"Oh, that's just Bella," said the man with a wave of his hand. "I'm thinking we clean you up, talk with your grandfather, or is it your great-grandfather, I'm not sure who the head of the Blacks is right now, and then see about getting you your trial. Then, we re-unite you with your godson, and I continue with my mission."

"Wait, you're going to get me my trail, re-unite me with Harry, and then leave me be?" asked Sirius, confused. "Why?"

"Well, I tried to do it legally, get you your trial and all, but the Ministry wasn't being cooperative. Six attempts, all failures, so that's when I said, 'Screw it', and decided to bust you out," explained the Emperor.

"So you're the one behind the assaults these last few months," acknowledged Sirius. "And all for me?"

"Well, you, Bella for the item in her vault that Riddle left with her, and then I've got to drain the souls from all the Death Munchers so Riddle can't break them out if and when he returns," explained the Emperor. Just then the sound of gunfire abated, and the Emperor smiled. "Ah, it seems they've finally subdued the last of the aurors. Good, hopefully the rest of this will go smoother."

"You keep mentioning Riddle, who's that?" asked Sirius.

"You know him as Voldemort, but his real name is Tom Riddle. Much like myself, he chose a new name when he began his ascent to power. Unlike me, though, he just used an anagram to find his name, while I took a more … aspirational appellation. Though, my current Empire consists of an area roughly the size of Jupiter, so it's not that much of a stretch," explained the Emperor. He then looked at Sirius, "So, what do you say? Stay in here, waiting until you get inspired to break out to hunt down Wormtail, or come with me, get your trial, and raise your godson?"

Sirius stepped away from his cell door, "Well, when you put it like that …"

- Updated 08/27/13


	7. Chapter 7

"Bella, I'll force the issue if you so desire," said the Emperor, sitting comfortably on his chair. "All I need and want is that cup that Riddle left you."

"I'll never betray my Lord," shouted Bellatrix, struggling against the duct tape bonds that kept her seated.

"Your Lord," and the Emperor said the latter word sarcastically, "is defeated, and I've already secured four of his six horcruxes."

Sirius had been able to sneak into Hogwarts to retrieve the Diadem and then to Grimmauld for the Locket in the weeks since the Emperor had killed every Death Eater in Azkaban save for Bellatrix. The fourth was, of course, Harry himself, leaving only the Diary and the Cup outstanding.

"The Dark Lord will return, and when he does, he'll defeat you and all you stand for!" shouted Bellatrix.

The Emperor sighed, or at least, the illusion of the Emperor the lich wore sighed. They'd yet to get far enough with the illusions to build a real body around their bones, though at least now they knew it was possible. With a wave of their hand the two undead bodyguards riddled Bella's body with stunner rounds from their MP5s.

Dropping the illusion of the Emperor, nobodez rose from the chair and strode across the distance separating Bellatrix. They reached down and lifted the stunned Death Eater's chin to look upon her admittedly beautiful face, "I wanted to do this the easy way. Why did you have to make this so difficult."

"She's always been difficult," said Sirius, surprising the lich with his presence.

"What did Arcturus have to say?" asked the lich, turning towards their agent. They'd revealed their true nature once Sirius had collected the two horcruxes.

"He's willing to give you the cup, as long as your promise that no other members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black are to be killed after Bellatrix," replied Sirius.

"Unless Narcissa has taken the Dark mark, then I believe I have no quarrel with the House of Black. I'd like to add a caveat that I'll reserve the right to kill any that cross me or support my opponents, but otherwise, yes, that's an acceptable compromise," replied Nobodez.

"You really plan on taking over the world?" asked Sirius.

"That's been my plan since shortly after I arrived here, yes," replied the lich, slowly walking from Bellatrix to Sirius. "First I needed to secure my base of operations, and with Riddle nearly destroyed once and for all, that gives me the time to build up my power base here in Britain."

"So how soon before you're Emperor of Earth?" asked Sirius.

"Two, three centuries," replied the lich. Sirius looked surprised. "Don't be so surprised. Unlike Riddle I truly am immortal, or as close as I can manage. Why rush?"

"Three hundred years," said Sirius with a sigh. "I'm not sure even Harry's kids will live long enough to see that."

"I'm currently hoping for two hundred, but yes, three hundred is a possibility," explained the lich. "I need to have the world unified before I can step in as Emperor. To do that, I need there to be a great many more magicals; witches and wizards. To do that, I need to persuade the current generation to either have loads more children, Weasley levels or more, or to donate generously to mundane sperm and egg banks."

"What if you can't?" asked Sirius.

"Well, worst case scenario I move down to Africa and take over a country there. I kill all the male mundanes and have a select group of allied wizards impregnate all the women. Then, a generation later, I'll have an entire country full of witches and wizards that have one foot in the mundane world and one foot in the magical. Then, it's simply a matter of shattering the Statute of Secrecy, and then establishing an Empire."

"Yeah, seams simple when you put it like that," said Sirius sarcastically.

"Padfoot, I know that my plan will have to adapt to changing situations. I'd rather do this with the minimum of bloodshed, but if I have to, I'll kill all the non-magical men in the world, and most of the wizards, and then force the world to give birth to a generation of witches and wizards, killing all the squibs," said the lich plainly. "I'm an undead monster, killing half the world my be the last thing I want to do …"

"But it's still on the list," finished Sirius with a shrug. "I owe you for getting my out of Azkaban and getting me my trial."

"Well, the latter was actually your grandfather, I just allowed you to talk to him so that he could use his political powers to force the issue," said the lich.

"You're also allowing me to get to know my godson," said Sirius.

"It was simply a matter of purchasing a controlling interest in a small company and convincing one of the vice presidents that it was in his best interest to let you take care of his unwanted nephew," countered the lich.

"I still don't understand why he has to stay with them, though," said Sirius.

"Until you're free and we can more openly move against the more entrenched interests of the magical world, it's best if Albus doesn't know what we're doing," explained the lich. "He doesn't exactly agree with my 'one chance' policy."

"I'm not sure if I entirely agree with it, but I owe you, and until you give me a reason not to, I'm with you," said Sirius.

"Thank you Padfoot," said the lich. They didn't want to admit it, especially not to Sirius, but the loyalty potions had been a part of the man's potion regimen over the last few weeks, supplementing the nutritional and mental health potions, were the true source of his loyalty to the lich. They'd have done it to Bellatrix, but they had no use for a crazy bitch, especially since as soon as she was dead they'd know everything she knew anyway.

"Inform your grandfather that the Lestrange vault should be transfered to the House of Black as soon as the goblins are notified of Bellatrix's demise," said the lich, waking from Sirius back to Bellatrix.

"And how soon will that be?" asked Sirius.

The lich's hand somehow began to glow black, "As soon as I make the delivery." With a touch the lich devoured Bellatrix's soul, flooding their mind with her entire memories, though after killing dozens of Death Eaters at Azkaban and the half dozen muggers over the last year and a half, it no longer confused them as it once did. The lich would have smiled, though, when they realized that not only were all of Bellatrix's memories now theirs, but so too was a fraction of her magical power, the first such boon they'd received.

Now it was time to drain a few horcruxes.

- Updates 08/27/13


	8. Chapter 8

The experience of draining the soul from the horcruxes was unique, at least compared to draining the soul from a human being. It was fragmented, so instead of the normal flow of memories from day to day, linked by common elements but otherwise continuous, the memories were in pieces, linked only by the common elements.

The Gaunt Ring, containing the Resurrection Stone, was the oldest of the five horcruxes that nobodez had, and the second oldest overall (the eldest was, of course, the Diary, which was still with Lucius Malfoy, though nobodez had finally figured out how they'd get it). Created late in 1944, a year after the Diary, it contained fragments of Riddle's memory from both Hogwarts and the Orphanage. As expected, it also contained literally a quarter of Riddle's magical power, since it contained a quarter of Riddle's soul. While nobodez wasn't able to capture all of that quarter of power, it was nearly as much as they'd received from Bellatrix, giving the lich a desire to see how large a piece the Diary, which contained half of Riddle's soul, and therefore half of his magical power, would provide.

Ravenclaw's Diadem was the third of Riddle's horcruxes made, after the Diary and Ring, and thus contained an eighth of Riddle's soul. Made the summer after Riddle finished his NEWTs, 1945, in Albania. Riddle had killed an Albanian Roma witch, a fortune teller who had dared to foretell that Riddle would be defeated despite his protections, and in fact, because of them. It contained the memory of discovering the location of the Diadem from the Grey Lady, Helena Ravenclaw, and then the search for the location in Albania, hundreds of years after it was lost, stretching Riddle's knowledge of the mundane world. The steady decline in Riddle's mind was seen in the memories, his quick temper, his paranoia, and his increasing need to have multiple horcruxes, splitting his soul and magic into smaller and smaller pieces. Even then, with two horcruxes made, and the plan to make another, he was making plans to gain power by being something that Grindlewald, newly defeated by Dumbledore, would despise, gaining power only for pure bloods, by using them, the rich and powerful in the magical world, to oppress the half-bloods and muggleborn, those without power or prestige in the magical world. Unlike Grindlewald, who had used the mundane, and specifically the Nazi regime, to gain power. Riddle, with his hatred of anything "muggle", wanted nothing to do with Gindlewald's desire to rule over the mundane world. nobodez realized that, from an outside observed, they were just as dark and evil, in goals, as both Riddle and Gindlewald, wanting to rule the world rather than just England or Europe, though rather than killing all the "blood traitors", "mudbloods", and "muggles" to create their empire, like Riddle would, or conquering the mundanes alongside the Third Reich, like Grindlewald would, nobodez planned to unite the world, forcibly if need be, and usher all six billion, mundanes and magical alike, into the future. Was it worth the hassle? Did nobodez have the right to kill the Death Eaters, even though, given the chance, and the knowledge that nobodez was once a mundane, with no magical blood, they would kill the lich in turn?

Hufflepuff's Cup, retrieved by Arcturus Black from the Lestrange Vault after the last Lestrange was confirmed dead, and then given to nobodez via Sirius, was the next oldest, created with the murder of Hepzibah Smith in 1946. In addition to three more years of memory fragments, it produced the first proof of the lich's theory about horcruxes. By reviewing the memories, including those of creating both the Diary and the Ring, nobodez could see how splitting his soul, and his magic, made Riddle more irrational and paranoid. Instead of the cool and calculating young boy that had gained power in Slytherin despite being a half blood, there was the beginning of the fiction of Lord Voldemort, hypocritical Blood Purist. nobodez could see the slide into madness that the creation of the horcruxes caused in Riddle, how it made more and more sense for him to split his soul, and his magic, into pieces, to prevent himself from dying. By the time he'd created the Cup horcrux he'd already lost three quarters of his soul and magic, and had lost all his appreciation for wine, women, or song. All he lusted for was power. Despite the fragment of Riddle's magic that the lich absorbed being, technically, half a half as large as that from the Diadem, the increase in magical power absorbing the soul and magic caused was more than half as much, meaning either Riddle had gotten stronger in the three years between creating the Diadem and the Cup horcuxes, or the lich's ability to absorb magic along with the soul was steadily getting better.

The fourth, and final, horcrux that nobodez drained was Slytherin's Locket, which had been made mere days after the Cup, and instead of being created with the death of someone meaningful: Myrtle, the first, and only, woman Riddle ever loved, accidentally killed by the basilisk; Tom Riddle Senior, the mundane father that never loved his first son; or even Hepzibah Smith, pureblood descendent of Helga Hufflepuff; the Locket had been created with the convenient death of a muggle tramp, literally the first person that Riddle had seen that wouldn't have been immediately missed. While the memories still provided glimpses into Riddle's thoughts and history, the fragment of soul, only a thirty-second, provided half as much magic as that from the Cup, showing that Riddle's power grew as he got older, and the lich was pulling the same fraction of magic from whatever soul, or fraction thereof, they drained.

With four horcruxes destroyed, leaving only the Diary and Harry, as well as Riddle's free-roaming soul itself, the lich had a choice to make.

The choice was not whether to go after the Diary, that would be easy, especially as nobodez planned to attend Sirius' trial, and thus be close to Lucius Malfoy, whom the lich had insisted be called as a witness. Once Lucius, under the influence of Veritiserum, confirmed that Sirius had never been at any meeting Lucius had attended, and unlike him didn't even have a Dark Mark, he would be drained of his soul for his crimes, leaving Narcissa a widow. Then, again through Sirius and Arcturus, nobodez would retrieve the horcrux, leaving Narcissa alone if she wasn't marked, or killing her if she did. If Narcissa was marked, like her husband, nobodez would suggest that Draco be raised by either Andromeda or Sirius, giving him an opportunity to become a descent human being. nobodez wasn't sure if they wanted Narcissa to be a marked Death Eater or not.

No, the real choice was how to deal with the horcrux in Harry Potter. nobodez wasn't sure if they'd be able to drain just the horcrux, or if they'd have to wait until Riddle was partially resurrected with Harry's blood, making him a horcrux for Harry, then make sure Harry is the master of the Hallows, before having Riddle kill Harry to destroy the horcrux within, and then allowing nobodez, or possibly Harry to fulfill the prophesy (even though nobodez believed that it was already fulfilled on Halloween), to kill Voldemort, ending the Dark Lord forever.

nobodez also, knowing that Gindlewald was still in the Nuremgard, made a mental note to themself to eliminate the Durmstrang-educated Hungarian wizard, draining his soul, and syphoning off a portion of his magic. nobodez's overall plan was the gain enough magic by soul draining to double their initial amount, so that once they finally unlocked the ability to create a flesh-and-blood disguise, the lessoning of magical power would just mean they were just as powerful as they were to begin with.

- Updated 08/27/13


	9. Chapter 9

Doctor Leonard McCoy sat nearly anonymously as he watched the results of the trial unfold. Already Lucius had, under great protest, admitted that he'd not seen Sirius as any meeting of the Death Eaters, though the defending attorney was unable to ask if Lucius willingly took the Dark Mark, since the prosecuting attorney had objected to the line of questioning, saying that Lucius had already been acquitted of the charges. McCoy knew, though, that Lucius would get his just reward. After draining his soul, he'd also provide a wealth of information on the corruption in the Bagnold administration, including anything relating to the current head of the DMLE, Bary Crouch Sr. (McCoy was frustrated that the Junior Crouch had already escaped Azkaban, though there was the beginnings of a plan to take care of both Crouches should the need arise).

Just then a gasp spread through the courtroom, and McCoy focused back on the trial, as Sirius had just accepted the use of veritiserum. Luckily Sirius only knew of McCoy as the Emperor, and knew neither their name as the lich nobodez (though was able to describe them), nor his name and description as Doctors McCoy or Watson. It wasn't a perfect plan, but it would have to do, and would provide Sirius with a hopefully airtight defense.

"Would you state your name for the court records?" asked Sirius' layer.

"Sirius Orion Black," replied Sirius in the flat monotonous tone of those under the influence of veritiserum.

"When were you born, Mr. Black?"

"Four October, Nineteen Hundred Sixty-nine, a Sunday, in the morning," replied Sirius, giving much more detail then he needed.

"Have you ever been a member, voluntary or involuntary, of the organization commonly known as the 'Death Eaters'?" asked his lawyer, eliciting a gasp from the courtroom.

"No," replied Sirius, with another gasp from those assembled.

"Did you, willingly or unwillingly, provide the location of Mr. James Charlus Potter, Mrs. Lillian Elizabeth Potter née Evans, and/or Mr. Harry James Potter to the wizard commonly known as 'Lord Voldemort'," another, much louder gasp, " 'He-who-must-not-be-named', or 'You-know-who'?"

"No," replied Sirius, though the answer was nearly lost in the furor over the layer's bravado.

"Did you kill, or attempt to kill, Peter Simon Pettigrew on the night of Two November, Nineteen Hundred Eighty-One?"

"No."

"Did you kill, or attempt to kill, one of the dozen muggles that were killed the same night?"

"No."

The lawyer turned and faced the Tribunal, "No further questions."

Albus Dumbledore, the Chief Warlock and head of the Tribunal, gestured to the prosecutor, "You may ask you questions."

The prosecutor asked a series of questions similar to, but broader than those of Sirius's defender, though Sirius, rather than answering with one-word answers, even when the prosecutor insisted, elaborated. Once the guilt or innocence of the original crimes was no longer in doubt, the prosecutor went further.

"Sirius Black, did you willingly escape from Azkaban prison on the night of Seven May, Nineteen Hundred Eighty-Three?"

"I released myself of my own recognizance on the date in question," replied Sirius, though still with the tell-tale monotone of veritiserum.

"Sirius Black, did you receive any assistance during your so-called 'release under your own recognizance'?"

"Yes," the first one-word answer to the prosecutor.

"Could you name the person or persons who assisted you?"

"Yes," came another cheeky answer, the loyalty potions attempting to keep the Emperor's secret.

"What is the name of the person, or the names of the persons, who assisted you?"

"The Emperor," replied Sirius.

"Who is the Emperor?" asked the prosecutor, for the first time surprised at his own question.

"The Emperor is the one who offered me freedom from Azkaban, and then orchestrated, with my grandfather Arcturus Black, this trial."

"Is the Emperor a Dark Wizard?" asked the prosecutor.

"Not in my opinion," replied Sirius, the first such answer.

"Is the Emperor a Light Wizard?" asked the prosecutor.

"No."

"So, if not a Light Wizard, and 'not in your opinion' a Dark Wizard, how then, would you describe the Emperor?"

"A Grey Wizard," replied Sirius, then added, "The Grey Lord."

An uproar swept the courtroom, and McCoy in his cover participated, though began to make his way towards the exit of the courtroom in anticipation of his next endeavor.

The prosecutor didn't know what else to ask, and so he turned back to the Tribunal, "No further questions."

"Do you have any more questions for your client?" asked Albus of Sirius's defender.

"No, Chief Warlock, I do not," replied the defender.

After that it was a matter of formality. Since Sirius was neither guilty of the charges, nor had been actually convicted, and since no bond had been set, nor denied, his 'release on his own recognizance' had been nominally legal. Although the true murder, if indeed there had been a murder, or Peter Petigrew, as well as that of the twelve muggles, was as of yet unsolved. Sirius was acquitted, and all charges formally dismissed.

Doctor McCoy was the first to exit the courtroom, though he was followed shortly thereafter by one Lucius Malfoy.

After quickly ducking into an alcove and changing the illusion, the Emperor began to follow Lucius, and with careful channeling of both the lich's aura of fear and a lessoned version of the Dementor's aura, only the two of them shared the lift up to the Atrium.

"Do I know you?" asked Lucius of the rather muggle looking man with messy brown hair and wearing a brown robe with blue pinstripes.

"I believe that you've recently heard of me," replied the Emperor.

"The Emperor?" asked Lucius hesitantly.

"That I am," he said, and with a snap of his fingers, and the assistance of some pre-placed runes, the lift slammed to a halt.

"What do you want with me?" asked Lucius, a slight tremor of fear in his voice.

"Your soul,"said the Emperor lightly.

"My … my … soul?" asked Lucius.

"You have been a very bad man, Lucy, and I intend to make you pay for your crimes," explained the Emperor.

"What crimes?" sneered Lucius, in a sudden burst of defiance. "I was acquitted just as much as Black was down there."

"True, but unlike Sirius, you were guilty of those crimes," said the Emperor, increasing the fear aura. "And for that, you will pay."

"I have money, power, whatever you desire," pled Lucius.

The Emperor replied flatly, "I too have money, and power, and as for what I desire, right here, right now …". The illusion dropped, and the lich stared at Lucius, the red pinpricks of light from their eye sockets adding a touch more malevolence, "All I desire is your soul."

"Merlin," gasped Lucius.

"No, but perhaps eventually," quipped nobodez. They brought up their skeletal hand, the black energy somehow shining from between the bones of their hand.

"What are you?" asked Lucius as he backed into the corner of the lift.

"I am you death, Lucius Malfoy, yours and your Lord's," said Nobodez.

Thirty seconds later the lift arrived at the Atrium, and the Emperor stepped out of the otherwise empty lift, disappearing into the throng of witches and wizards who had taken the later lifts and arrived before him. He whistled a lilting melody from a movie he'd seen long ago, and years from now, about a young boy and his adventures at a school of magic.

- Updated 09/10/13


	10. Chapter 10

nobodez set the Daily Prophet down on the table, having read the headlines. The sensational news of Sirius Black's trial, and acquittal of all charges, dominated the top half of the magic paper, with a massive picture of Sirius and Arcturus Black emerging victorious from the courtroom occupying most of what space was left from the massive headline of "Sirius Black Acquitted".

nobodez, though, was more interested in the two secondary articles, below the fold, and one was about them, or rather their persona as "The Emperor", also known as "The Grey Lord", while the other was about the disappearance and presumed murder of the defense's primary witness, and cousin-in-law to Sirius, Lucius Black. nobodez had expected the first as soon as Sirius talked about who released him, but had not expected the second, at least, not for a few days. It seems that when Lucius died, so did a few wards his magic was powering (even though some of it remained, though it was now part of nobodez's magic instead), revealing to his new widow his untimely demise.

"So, I see we both made the front page of the Prophet," said Sirius, stepping out of the flat's floo. Although nobodez had a large amount of money, millions of galleons and tens of millions of pounds, they still 'lived', as it were, in Alex Smith's old flat, even though the lease-holder had been dead for nearly two years.

"I'm not happy about either of these articles, though I admit, I should have put my involvement under more protection," admitted the lich.

"It's not your fault, though I'd rather you not blame me either," said Sirius, sitting down opposite the lich at the cheap table. "Arcturus wants to meet you face to face, and I've already received requests from both Director Crouch of the MLE and Headmaster Dumbledore to talk about my involvement with you."

"Arcturus is important, as I need to get the diary from Narcissa," said the lich. "As for Crouch, if you'd like, I can pay him a visit. I know where the bodies are buried, and more importantly, which bodies are buried, and which aren't."

"Okay …" said Sirius hesitantly. "What about Dumbledore?"

"After what he did after Riddle's death, with Harry, do you trust him?" asked the lich. "I don't, but that's because I have a … distorted view of the man."

"I'd like to know the why's, such as why I was left to rot in Azkaban without a trial, but yes, he's a powerful man, and although he's made mistakes, he's still the greatest force for good this country has seen in centuries," the animagus explained.

"Tell him what you like, but remember, he's a skilled Legilimens, so don't look him in the eyes," cautioned nobodez.

"Of course," said Sirius with a scoff, "How'd you think the Marauders got away with so much?"

"Ah," said the lich.

"As for Arcturus, will he be meeting you or the Emperor?" asked Sirius.

The lich thought for a moment, and then the illusion of the Emperor sat opposite Sirius, though wearing a pastel blue bath robe rather than the blue suit or the brown robe.

"I hope you're not planning on wearing that," said Sirius with a smile.

"I'll have you know that I could fight of an alien invasion wearing this," said the Emperor, the affected accent gaining more and more Estuary atop the Received Pronunciation base and missing almost all of the American accent that nobodez normally spoke with (as well as all of the sub-harmonics).

"You know, you keep trying so hard, and yet, nobody will ever get your references," pointed out Sirius. "I recommend the brown robe, of course, or if you can transfigure something even nicer, perhaps go with that. He is the head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

"But of course, I may have been raised a middle-class American mundane, but even I know when I need to dress up," admitted the Emperor. He stood, and with a gesture of his hand his illusionary clothes changed, from the blue bath robe to a fine silk dress robe in black with red trim, over a dress shirt and bow tie, the former a light grey, while the latter was black.

"Red and Black, the colors of your soldiers," pointed out Sirius.

"The Wizards are Red, the Warriors are Black, and the Dementors, and yes, I now have Dementor minions, are Black with red bones," said the Emperor, as with a wave of his hand three illusory figures appeared to float above the newspaper.

The red robed wizard was looped in a devastating spell chain that Sirius had seen his cousin, Bellatrix, use in battle. The black armored warrior was looped as well, bringing the submachine gun, a term that Sirius had learned in the weeks since his escape, up to its shoulder to fire, and then lowering it again, before advancing a few steps and starting over. The black robed red skeletal Dementor gave Sirius the chills, even without any sort of aura of fear, though the red bones would differentiate the Emperor's Dementors from those used by the Ministry of Magic, as well as other governments around the world, to defend Azkaban and similar prisons.

With another wave, the illusions were gone once more, "Hopefully Arcturus will be cooperative, though I fear the fallout from my premature revelation might upset him."

"From what I could see he was still proceeding with the agreement, and even though Narcissa is likely to be distracted from the after effects of Lucius' death and disappearance, she'll provide him with the Diary," said Sirius with confidence.

"Let us hope so," said the Emperor.

Four hours later the Emperor was deposited via portkey into a dark, yet luxurious, entrance hall of a mansion or manor. He looked around and noticed that all of the paintings were empty of their subjects.

A door opened onto a balcony above, and the man was silhouetted by the light from a room beyond, "Welcome, 'Emperor', to the Ebon Hall."

The Emperor bowed his head to whom he presumed was Arcturus Black, "Lord Black, thank you for inviting my to your home."

"A house elf will be along shortly to collect your wands and any other weapons you might be carrying," said Arcturus. "Only then will be begin our meeting."

"Of course," said the Emperor.

After giving the two wands, neither of which was had been purchased by one Doctor Leonard McCoy from Ollivander, the PPK, the pair of poisoned hunting knives, and the 'stun' baton to the elf that had appeared (all replaceable), the Emperor smoothed his dress robe. As the elf popped away, a hidden door opened behind him, and lead into a well appointed study.

"Come in, Emperor," said Arcturus, this time standing fully illuminated. He appeared to be in his late fifties, which meant that as a wizard he was likely in his early eighties.

"Thank you, Lord Black."

"You can call me Arcturus, but only if I shan't have to call you by your rather pretentious title," said the wizard.

"You may call me Tiberius," replied the Emperor, before striding confidently into the study.

"You seemed to have been rather well armed for a visit to an ally's house, Tiberius," said Arturus, gesturing to the smaller of the two leather chairs, while taking a seat in the larger and more stately one.

"After the … revelation of our mutual involvement in getting your grandson his trial, I could not presume a hospitable welcome," explained 'Tiberius'.

"It was unlucky, and neither of us anticipated it, while both of us should," explained Arcturus. He placed his hand on a wooden box sitting on a table between the two chairs, "I took the pleasure of securing the object you desired from Narcissa this morning, after affirming that she was still protected by the House of her birth, as was her son." Lord Black then passed the box to 'Tiberius'.

"Thank you, Arcturus," said the Emperor, though did not examine it, as it was a gift from his host. "I was hoping that the revelation would not upset our alliance."

"I had actually hoped to expand our alliance, though by looking at you it might not be for a generation or more," said Arcturus.

"How so?"

"Tiberius, you know that my grandson has no children, and while he had many dalliances during his time at Hogwarts, none lasted beyond a third date. I am not as young as I once was, and while I am not an old man, I have lived longer than most of my family, having outlived my son and one of my grandsons. While my daughter, Lucretia, still lives, her husband died during the war with … Riddle was it?"

"Yes, Riddle, Tom Marvolo Riddle," explained the Emperor.

Arcturus gestured to the wooden box, "So that is his Diary?"

"Of a sort, while I suspect that once it was truly his diary, it is now an object that would allow him the ability to return from his destruction," explained 'Tiberius'.

"And you intend to destroy it?"

"As I have done with four others, such as the cup you retrieved from Bellatrix's vault for me."

"But that was not destroyed, I read that it was returned, anonymously, to the Smiths."

"The magic that Riddle put into it, though, was destroyed. As was that in Slytherin's Locket and Ravenclaw's Diadem, the former also returned to the Smiths and the latter soon to be returned to Hogwarts itself."

"You found Ravenclaw's Diadem?" asked Arcturus surprised.

"I knew where it was, and you grandson retrieved it. It was my hope that he'd be able to use it to curry favor with Headmaster Dumbledore."

"You seek Albus' favor?"

"I wish to be forgotten by the public, but that will not happen, and so I must instead stay true to my moniker."

" 'The Grey Lord'? Seems rather pretentious, though not quite as much as 'Emperor'."

"I am neither Dark like Grindlewald or Riddle, nor Light like Dumbledore, instead I seek a middle path, one where the evil are punished, but the good too are held to account. I seek an end to the Statute of Secrecy, and a rise of a Human Empire across the Earth, and eventually, across the Universe."

"Grand ideas, Tiberius, though I now understand your appellation."

The Emperor nodded, "It is, as I told your grandson, an aspirational one. I seek not the subjugation, nor the elimination of the non-magicals …"

"The muggles?" asked Arcturus.

"I would rather not use that term, as it is my intent to integrate them, or rather, to integrate the magical with the mundane," explained 'Tiberius'.

"Integration, a grand plan, but to do so would either take a large effort to destroy the Statute quickly, or much more time than you have."

"I have a plan, and even if it takes hundreds of years, it shall succeed," proclaimed the Emperor.

"While I do not share your beliefs, I admit that your plan is likely to succeed with or without the help of myself or my House, and so, I'd like to bind my House with yours. I had hoped, were you older, than you had a suitable daughter to marry my grandson, but I find instead that you're perhaps a decade older than he, and even if you did have a daughter, she'd not be old enough for Sirius."

The Emperor thought for a moment, contemplating his options. Two were visible and obvious to him. The first would be to claim some woman as sister, and use her to cement the alliance, but that would require magic upon the woman, of a style the Lockhart would approve, which made it the less savory, but less hazardous option, The second would be to take the more difficult path, one that would either require sacrificing magic for a period of time, or else killing many more Death Eaters before introducing a sister to Sirius. While he needed not make the decision now, the answer was obvious.

"I do have a sister, she's a bit older than Sirius, and she is, as the saying goes, unattached."

- Updated 09/10/13


	11. Chapter 11

"You never told me you had a sister," said Sirius a few days later after returning from Privet Drive.

"You never asked, and I didn't think it was relevant," replied the Emperor, who was spending more and more time in the full-flesh illusion rather than as a lich. He was currently wrapping a femur in thin yellow fabric.

"So, is she, you know, like you?" asked Sirius.

"Is she a lich?" asked the Emperor. He shook his head, "No, she's alive, and yes, she is a witch, though obviously she's a first-generation witch, so she might not pass your mother's approval."

"Walburga's not going to live long enough to matter, even if we don't become more than acquaintances," said Sirius.

The Emperor put down the femur, both because the epoxy needed to set and because he wanted to pay attention to Sirius. "You've not even met her, and yet you're putting her ahead of your family."

"My mother hasn't been 'family' since she kicked me out nearly a decade ago and I moved it with Great Aunt Dorea," said Sirius. "Yes, she's still my mother, but she's not family. Much like the Dursleys are Harry's aunt and uncle, but they're not family. Family is more than just being related by blood, family is about loyalty and about caring for one another. James may have just been a cousin, but he was more family than my own parents."

"And me?" asked the Emperor. He wondered how the loyalty potions had affected Sirius' definition of family.

"You're the man, or rather the lich, who broke me out of prison and got me my freedom. You allowed me to be a godfather to Harry when otherwise I'd be thought of as a traitor to his parents. You've re-united me with Moony, my brother in all but name. You've given me my family back. If Arcturus says that I need to marry your sister to solidify the alliance between your House and mine, well, then as long as we get along, I'm up for it."

"Well, I've already written her, and she's willing to come out for a week or two next month," said the Emperor.

"If she's soon enough, she could make Harry's birthday," said Sirius with a smile.

"He's turning three this year, isn't he?" asked the Emperor.

"Yes, and since I'm his magical guardian, even though Petunia is his legal, if I'm to have a relationship with your sister, even as friends, I'd like her to meet him," said Sirius. "You are going to be there as well, are you not?"

The Emperor thought for a moment, then shook his head, "I'm afraid not."

Sirius looked shocked, "And why not?"

"Well, I'm still unsure of the protections that Albus placed upon the Dursley residence, and so I do not wish to tip my hand in revealing myself to him," said the Emperor. What he didn't say was that he planned on being there in disguise.

"I don't understand why we still need the protections anyway," said Sirius.

"Riddle is still out there, and right now his only horcrux is in Harry's forehead. Until I can figure out how to remove it without killing him, I'd rather keep the protections in place. They should protect him until he's seventeen, I'd rather no jeopardize that protection," explained the Emperor.

"And since Albus refuses to tell me what those protections entail …" said Sirius with a sigh. "I see, well, at least your sister will be there. What's her name anyway?"

"Winona Erin Skrobanek," replied the Emperor.

"So you're Tiberius Skrobanek?" asked Sirius.

"I told Arcturus he could call me Tiberius," replied the Emperor. "And while Skrobanek is my sister's last name, it is not mine."

"Half sister?" asked Sirius.

"Born after the divorce," replied the Emperor. He was actually using his maternal grandmother's maiden name for the realization of the fiction of having a sister.

"So, what's she like?" asked Sirius. "She's your sister, but I know so little about who you are, behind the faces your wear, to make any guesses."

"We're from Iowa, though a few years after the divorce mom moved us to Colorado, though luckily we lived in the suburbs rather than on a farm like in Iowa," replied the Emperor, letting out bits of the fictional biography he'd begun to compose for himself.

"Well, that's where you're from, what's she life? Is she funny, and more importantly can she take a joke?"

The Emperor chuckled, "She's a bit more towards the pun and joke side of the spectrum, rather than your prank side," explained the Emperor. "She's also into computers."

"What?" asked a confused Sirius.

"You know that we Americans are a bit more integrated than here in Europe, right? While we still follow the Statue of Secrecy, we're more integrated into society. Comes from having most of our early witches and wizards being first generation, muggleborn as you'd call it here. So, while she's a witch, and is just as capable at using her wand as you are, though a bit more reliant upon it than myself, a side effect of my transformation, she's also not limited to magic. She's a computer programer, mostly Apple II's, so you'd have to forgive her if she won't fully absorb herself into the magical world if you two hit it off."

"It's good that she's muggle, or rather mundane, raised. Harry's stuck in the mundane world due to living with his aunt and uncle, and while I'm able to give him a bit of magic, it'd be better if I'd be able to fit in, so as to not antagonize Petunia and Vernon too much."

"Wait, you're trying to be friendly with the Dursleys?"

"If I show them that magic isn't all bad, that some of us wizards are decent folk, then they won't put that opinion into their son and Harry. While we know that Harry's a wizard, and that Dudley isn't, if they have another kid it's just as likely that it'll be magical as not, and I don't want any wizard or witch growing up in an unloving household. I had that as a child, and I don't want any other child to have to live with that."

"You've got depths, Sirius, depths that I'd never had guessed."

"I'll take that as a compliment," said Sirius with a smile.

- Updated 09/10/13


	12. Chapter 12

Sirius Black was nervous.

He wasn't just nervous because he was in a muggle, or rather a mundane, suit holding a white placard with the name "Skrobanek" written on it, though he still felt vaguely out of place. No, it was because he was going to be meeting a woman. He'd never felt this nervous before meeting a woman in his life, but for some reason, and he wasn't sure, he just wanted this meeting to go well. After a year and a half in Azkaban he'd let his family down, and he felt that, if this went well, and he and the Emperor's sister hit it off, he'd be able to make it up to his Grandfather Arcturus. He also felt that he owed it to the Emperor to do right by the lich's sister, since if it wasn't for the Emperor, Sirius would still be in Azkaban, and likely would have died there.

So, Sirius Black was nervous, but for reasons that he couldn't quite put into words.

He'd been waiting just inside the doors to Heathrow's Terminal 1, where the Emperor has said that Winona would arrive on her flight from Chicago. While Sirius knew that airplanes could fly, that was obvious just by watching them, he, like most British, or even European, wizards, didn't know how they flew. He likewise had never flown in an airplane, and he'd not known many that had (James and Lily had taken an airplane during their honeymoon, since Lily and portkeys didn't agree with each other).

As he was musing he saw a woman that didn't fit in. It wasn't that she was too pretty to too ugly for the crowd around her, though she was on the pretty side of the spectrum, instead, it was that she wore clothes that didn't quite match any of the styles he'd seen during his hour or so wait. Her brown hair was worn long and parted to the side, with her fringes swept to the side as well, revealing her intense blue eyes. Her face was fairly angular, and she wore conservative makeup, the only obvious addition he could spot was the slightly purple lipstick she wore. For her clothing he noticed that both brother and sister had a similar style, as the waistcoat and slacks she wore were both pinstriped, though hers were just black pinstripes on slate grey. She wore a pale yellow blouse under her waistcoat, which peeked out just a bit below the shorter overgarment. She also wore a black overcoat similar to the almost-robe that the Emperor favored, though hers was black with a purple satin lining. She pulled a trolley case behind her, it too slate grey with black pinstripes. While she was taller than average, Sirius assumed some of that was from her high-heeled shoes, all but the tips of which were hidden by her slacks.

"I assume you're Mr. Black?" she asked, her accent obviously American unlike the affected Estuary accent that the Emperor preferred.

"Ms. Skrobanek?" asked Sirius.

"Call me Winona," she replied with a smile.

"Then you must call me Sirius. Is that all your luggage? I've seen many people taking three or four bags with them."

"Come now Mr. Bla… Sirius, sorry, surely you didn't expect me to be totally mundane. Just because it looks like a roll along doesn't mean that it's not bigger on the inside."

"Of course, my mistake," he said with a smile.

"So, how are we going to do this?" she asked, gesturing vaguely to herself and her luggage, limited it might be.

Sirius looked puzzled, "Do what exactly?"

"Well, I assume you're here to pick me up, do you have a car, or rather a motorcycle, waiting? My brother said that you preferred to drive, or rather fly, your Triumph, though he did say you had a sidecar."

Sirius raised his eyebrow.

"I'd rather not ride, either behind or beside until we've known each other a bit longer," said Winona, breaking Sirius' hopes. "We're heading to your godson's for his birthday celebration, are we not?"

"Not exactly," said Sirius. "While I was able to convince the Dursleys to let Harry celebrate his third birthday, it will not be a Privet Drive, no matter if it's just a few miles south. Instead it will be at Ebon Hall, hosted by my Grandfather, and Harry's First Cousin, twice removed, Lord Arcturus Black. In attendance will be quite a few of the children born during the last year or two of Riddle's reign of terror, those that will be Harry's peers at Hogwarts, as well as their families of course, including my cousin Narcissa and her son Draco, who recently lost her husband and his father, respectively, a former Death Eater."

"That's what Riddle called his followers, right?" asked Winona.

"Yes, though now that your brother, the Emperor …"

"Call him Tiberius," interrupted Winona. "Or even better, call him James, he hates his first name, and I'm not sure exactly why he prefers his ridiculous middle name."

Sirius smiled, "Can I call him Jimmy?"

Winona laughed, "Oh, he'd love that. He refused to respond to that from the fifth grade on, even though, five years younger than him, I didn't know any better. I thought he hated me until mom explained that he didn't like being called Jimmy."

Sirius rubbed his hands together, "Excellent. Jimmy it is. So, speaking of your brother, what's up with the lich thing?"

"Should we be walking about that out here in public?" asked Winona in deflection, looking at the crowds of travelers that flowed around the two of them.

Sirius dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand, "Notice-me-Not combined with a subtle Muggle Repelling charm, as well as a specialized secrecy charm your brother cooked up based on something a boyhood foe of mine cooked up at Hogwarts."

"Hmm, interesting," said Winona, looking around. "And the cameras?"

"We're right in the blind spot, none of them can see us clearly," replied Sirius.

"In that case," said Winona, as she reached into one of the pockets of her overcoat, and withdrew a black fedora, narrow band flipped up in the back, with a purple hatband the same shade as the lining of her coat and only a few shades darker than her lipstick. She the twirled it around dramatically and then placed it on her head.

"Stylish," said Sirius.

"Thank you," she said. "Shall we?"

Sirius offered his arm to her, the arm opposite that which had pulled the trolley case, "We shall."

She took his arm, grasped her roll along, and then with a snap of displaced air, they disappeared.

- Updated 09/10/13


	13. Chapter 13

"So, how was the party?" asked nobodez as their "sister" apparated into Alex Smith's flat.

Winona smirked, "Are you ready to find out?"

nobodez chuckled, and then stood from their workbench. "You're not going to tell me?"

"It's for me to know, and you to find out," said Winona. "So, time to get ready. I know you've got the turner."

"Of course I've got the turner," said nobodez, picking up the golden magical item from the workbench. "And aside from what's already out there, there won't be any more in Britain for a while."

"I know, but we're running out of time. It's nearly four hours since I met Sirius at Heathrow, and you've only got the one turner. So, get ready," demanded Winona.

nobodez rolled their head, about the closest to an eye roll they could get without any actual eyes, merely glowing red dots in the pit of their eye sockets. With a wave of their hand another Winona, naked, was standing on the flat.

"Need help with the clothes?" asked the older woman.

"Nah, I'm pretty sure I know the inspiration, and I'd rather not mess with time any more than we are," responded the younger woman. With another wave of her hand she was clothed in an outfit almost exactly like her older doppelgänger. the difference being four hours of wear on their otherwise identical outfits. "So, how do I look?"

The older Winona smiled, "No wonder Sirius couldn't get enough of us. Go, have fun, and say hello to Harry for me."

The younger Winona scrunched up her face in confusion, "What? Didn't you just … wait, ah, causality."

The older Winona nodded, "Backwards in time, yes. All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again."

"No wonder Rowling never used them beyond the third book," said the younger Winona. She pulled the golden necklace of the time turner over her head, and with a wink to her older self, spun four hours back in time.

Over the next year the lich would spend more and more time as their increasingly less fictional "sister". Their existing plots still continued, including a brief trip to Germany to pay a visit to the Chief Warlock's old flame. The knowledge and power received from the now dead leader of the Knights of Walpurgis, the purely magical arm of the Thule Society, and eventually the magical arm of the Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei, the Nazis, was illuminating.

And so it was, on 31 July, 1984, that once again Winona Skrobanek apparated into Alex Smith's flat after spending the previous four hours at Harry Potter's birthday party.

"You look happy," said the Emperor, looking up from the Daily Prophet he was reading.

"I am happy," said Winona, nearly floating as she sat down opposite her younger self.

"So, the party went well, did it?" asked the Emperor. He'd recently returned himself from securing an estate outside of Lezhë, Albania, giving him a foothold in the country that harbored the remaining spirit of Tom Riddle.

Winona nodded, "Quite."

It was then that the Emperor noticed that Winona was consciously hiding her left hand under her right. He was just about to ask when Winona spoke a single word.

"Spoilers."

Shocked, the Emperor said nothing else while looking at his older, temporally shifted self.

"Go, get ready, I know this is something that we were hoping for, and it is going according to plan. We've got till the heat-death of the universe to achieve our plans, what's a few decades delay?" asked Winona.

"The Plan," said the Emperor with a sigh. "Well, it'll still work, and I admit, we do enjoy Sirius' company. But really, I guess, well …"

"All of this has happened before …" said Winona.

"… And all of this will happen again." said the Emperor, completing the saying. "I assume he'll be picking us up at the normal place?"

"Of course, now, go get ready, and most importantly, have fun," said Winona.

The next year saw the lich spend more and more time as Winona, and less and less time as the Emperor or one of their many muggle and magical cover identities around the globe. While the "reformation" of Sirius Black as well as assisting with the raising of Harry Potter kept the lich busy most of the time, they still found time to advance The Plan.

Using both magic and money, nobodez sought to grow entities akin to the European Union, creating pan-national entities that could grow into supra-national governments, heading towards the eventual unification of Earth and the human race. Two standout operations were in Northern Ireland and Central America.

Northern Ireland was something that, as a former American, the lich nobodez knew very little about, aside from the fact that the Troubles pretty much defined the 80s in the UK. Using the Imperius and other less extreme methods, nobodez worked to calm the factions, pointing them towards diplomatic and political methods rather than terrorism. While it didn't solve the problem, by the summer of '85 the Troubles were mostly over, and the most extreme Unionists and Republicans, while not quite able to enjoy a pint in the pub together, at least could argue about the future, and past, of Northern Ireland without worrying about guns or explosives. It was seen that the European Union offered the best chance for the Republicans to achieve a "unified" Ireland, while the Unionists kept their loyalty to the Crown.

Central America was the second part of the lich's plan for the 80s, or rather, the CIA's actions in Central America. Rather than attempt to stop any particular operation, nobodez worked towards controlling up and coming CIA bureaucrats, such that, rather than extolling that "Whatever is good from American Business is good for America", nobodez's agents pushed a "Democracy, even if socialist, is better than despotism and fascism". It also helped that nobodez bet the market to gain money from the falling fortunes of the likes of United Fruit.

Luckily most of these operations could either be handled with a quick flight across the pond on the Concorde or a quick apparition to Northern Ireland, allowing Winona to become the default persona rather than the Emperor (though due to time turner shenanigans the Emperor did come into play now and again).

Unfortunately nobodez had to put their plans into hibernation, as for Harry's 6th birthday party, the newlyweds announced that a new generation of Blacks was to be born by the end of the year. While Sirius hoped for a boy to continue his House, appease his grandfather, and give Harry a godbrother, Winona, using a bit of magic, ensured that her firstborns would be fraternal twins, a boy and a girl.

It was at Harry's fifth birthday party, held once again at Ebon Hall, that, during a conversation with Narcissa Black (after he husband's murder she'd adopted her maiden name, though Draco remained a Malfoy), the next step in the lich's plan revealed itself.

"Sirius," said Narcissa, watching as the assorted four, five, and six year olds played amongst themselves, "I know you never really got on with him, but as Draco's godfather, I'm worried about Severus."

"What's Snivellus done now?" asked Sirius.

Winona Black rolled her eyes, "Now dear, it's been what, nearly a decade since you left Hogwarts? Can't you leave the past behind and let this silly rivalry go?"

Sirius smiled and pecked his wife on the cheek with a kiss, "I'll try, for you." He then turned to his cousin, "What's Severus done now?"

"He's not leaving Hogwarts," said Narcissa. "I mean, I know he hates it there, dealing with the children, but at least he used to have the summers free to escape Hogwarts and develop his potions. Plus he usually spent time with Draco, helping him learn the basics that Lucius can't teach him anymore."

"But with the news that's he's likely one of only two former Death Eaters still alive, aside from Highmaster Karkaroff of Durmstang," she further explained. "And with even some of Grindlewald's old lieutenants showing up dead, he's worried for his life."

"If he hates teaching so much, why is his still at Hogwarts?" asked Winona.

"Well, originally it was because only Dumbledore would give him a job, since he was the one that vouched for Severus at his trial, but now it's because it's the only place he thinks he's safe," explained Narcissa.

"And what did you want me to do?" asked Sirius.

"Go and talk to him, see if you can talk some sense into him," pled Narcissa. "I know you two never got on, but you've kept Draco and I safe from Lucius' old enemies." She looked over, and saw the nearly impossible situation of her blond haired son playing alongside one of the ginger Weasleys without fighting. "Perhaps you can let him stay at one of your less used properties. I mean, your mother died a few months ago, it's not like you're using your childhood home on Grimmauld Place."

Winona turned to Sirius, "Siri, I think this is a good idea. Show him, and Albus especially, that you've grown up. And it'll be one final defeat you can hand him, that you've done well enough that you can let him shelter from his enemies in one of your homes, that you've done well enough that your rivalry doesn't even matter to you."

Sirius stroked his goatee, and nodded, "It's got possibility." He then turned to Narcissa, "I'll send him a letter tomorrow offering him the use of Grimmauld Place when Hogwarts isn't in session."

"That reminds me, since you're not living in the normal heir's residence, even now that your mother has finally passed on, where are you two living now?" asks Narcissa.

"It's a nice estate my brother gave us for our wedding," said Winona. "It's a nice valley up in Scotland, a few leagues from Hogsmede. You should come and visit."

"I assume it's connected to the floo?" asked Narcissa.

"Of course, though it's a mixed magical muggle home, since my dear wife simply can't live without her computers," said Sirius.

Winona smiled, "I've finally got him to say it right. I've been working on him and Arthur for nearly two years now, and while Sirius is almost speaking like an expert, Arthur is still having problems with 'electricity'."

Sirius smiled with pride, "Come on over tomorrow, bring Draco, and we can go out flying over the loch."

"What's the floo address?" asked Narcissa.

"Skyfall," said Winona. She couldn't resist naming it that, she'd even made sure that the gate was flanked by a buck, though only on the left, for a grim like her husband, as well as the ravens for the Blacks and the sheep and crook for the Emperor's cover identity were in evidence as well. In addition to being a place for just the two of them, and their children, it also offered a safe place for Remus during his "monthly visitor", though she'd been able to teach Sirius and Remus both how to brew the Wolfsbane Potion, so it wasn't quite as dangerous for their future children.

In fact, she realized that Sirius, with his experience with potions for his pranks during his time at Howarts, and now with the Wolfsbane, could likely teach the subject at Hogwarts if Severus were to join his fellow Death Eaters. She'd only left him alive since she didn't want Slughorn to return to Hogwarts, but if Sirius took over for Severus, it'd provide a layer of addition security for when Riddle finally made his play for Harry.

- Updated 09/10/13


	14. Chapter 14

"What do you want Black?" sneered Severus Snape as he opened the door to his private chambers. Standing in the hall were Sirius Black, Albus Dumbledore, and Narcissa Black.

Sirius looked from Severus to Narcissa and back, "Are you talking to me or her?"

"Come now, there's no reason for any more hostility between you two," said Albus in his grandfatherly way.

"I stand by my question, what do you want?" asked Severus again.

"I'd like to offer you the use of my late mother's abode," said Sirius.

"Like I'd take anything from the likes of you," sneered Severus.

"It was my idea Severus," said Narcissa. "I'm worried about you, it's not good for you to keep yourself holed up in this castle during the summer. Draco misses his godfather."

"I have missed seeing him this summer," said Severus. "But I won't accept a handout from the likes of him." He pointed angrily at Sirius.

"Fine by me, it's not like I really care about what you think. I'm doing this for Cissy and Draco, not for you," said Sirius. He reached into the pocket of his robe and removed a set of dark iron keys, and handed them to Narcissa, "Here, these will allow you to get into Grimmauld Place. If you can get him to accept them, then he'll have a safe place to relax, otherwise, it's yours to do with as you please."

Sirius then turned and walked away, leaving Severus a bit surprised.

"He's just going to leave, just like that?" asked Severus.

"He's mellowed a bit," said Narcissa. "As much as I dislike that she's both a Colonial and a Muggleborn, his wife has been good for him."

"He got married?" asked Severus surprised.

Narcissa looked surprised, "I told you in a letter two months ago, they married a week after his mother died, one final concession to allow her a bit of rest, not having to see her surviving pureblood son 'sully' himself by marrying a 'mudblood'. Arcturus is surprisingly supportive of the union."

"And with the infamous wards of the Blacks, you will be nearly as safe there as you are here, Severus," said Albus. "Let the petty rivalry between the two of you go. He's moved on with his life, isn't it about time you moved on with yours?"

"How can I when I'm forced to stay here by the likes of you?" asked Severus.

"It's for the Greater Good, Severus. Although nearly all of Voldemort's Death Eaters are dead and gone, and all of Grindlewald's surviving Knights of Walpurgis as well, there's still a chance that Voldemort will return," explained Albus.

"Surely you don't think that he survived, do you?" asked Narcissa.

"He was one of the greatest students Hogwarts has had in the last century, myself included," admitted Albus. "That he turned to evil is perhaps one of my greatest failures. I fear that the defeat handed to him by the Potters shall not be his last, and that, one day, he will return, and once more turn his eyes to war and conquest."

"But without followers, what can he do?" asked Narcissa.

"The Dark Lord was very charismatic," explained Severus. "Be lucky you were never called to his service. While losing his Death Eaters would slow his rise to power should he return, it would not stop him. I fear that, should he return, I might not be able to deny him." Severus sighed, "If I remain here, though, I might just kill myself rather than risk whomever is killed the rest of the Dark Lord's followers."

Narcissa presented Severus the keys to Grimmauld Place, "Then take these. It's safe there, safer than Spinner's End, and it will do you good to get out of this castle."

"Yes, Severus, it would," added Albus. "And with you leaving, I too can return to my home. It's not good for us to linger here without the children."

Severus sighed, and then accepted the offered keys. He shuddered as he felt the old magic of the otherwise symbolic keys. "I shall have the elves pack my belongings. It might only be a month, but it would be good to be away from this castle."

"I shall visit you there tomorrow with Draco," said Narcissa. She then smiled, and stepped forward to give Severus a hug. "Let the rivalry go Severus, and get on with your life."

- Updated 09/10/13


	15. Chapter 15

"Ah, Sirius, good to see you," said the Emperor upon walking into parlor of Skyfall.

"Jimmy?" asked Sirius, looking up from his clasped hands. "Where have you been man? I haven't seen hide nor hair of you for over a year now, not since last Christmas."

"I've been working," said the Emperor. "And do you have to use that nickname?"

"Your sister, my wife, and the mother of my children said I could," replied Sirus with pride. "If you have a problem, take it up with her."

The Emperor waved it off, "It's annoying, but arguing with her won't get me anywhere. So, are they out yet?"

"Within the hour, the healer says," replied Sirius. "I'm worried, there aren't that many twins in our world, and almost all of them are identical. What if something's gone wrong?"

"It'll be fine. From the letters Winnie wrote to me she's been seeing an OB/GYN as well as a healer, and the mundanes are pretty much experts with even the most complicated of pregnancies," said the Emperor, attempting to calm his 'brother-in-law'.

"So, what do you think, will it be Apollo or Artemis first?" asked Sirius. He and his wife had already agreed on what names to give their children, named after the twin Greek gods Artemis and Apollo, though with middle names of more traditional Black heritage, Arcturus for Apollo and Dorea for Artemis.

"I'm going with Artemis, five galleons," said the Emperor, utilizing his foreknowledge.

"I'll match your five. I'm sure that my son will be the first out," said Sirius with a smile.

"So, Winnie's letters said that you've decided on the godparents, but she didn't say anything more," said the Emperor. Although he knew the answer, he also knew that Sirius had wanted to keep it relatively secret until the births.

"Well, obviously my grandfather will be Apollo's godfather, and Cissy will be his godmother. As for Artemis, I persuaded Minerva to be her godmother, and Harry will be her godmother. Her middle name is from his grandmother, herself a Black. Sure, he'll only be five and a half years older than her, but I think it'll be fine," said Sirius. "Plus, with you around, it's not like he'll have to raise her if Winona and I kick the bucket like your parents did."

"I'll do my best to look after both your children should you and Winnie pass on, though I hope that won't be for years. Perhaps you'll break the curse the Blacks seem to be under, what with your grandfather lasting the longest going back to before his grandfather," said the Emperor.

Just then a nurse stepped into the room, "Congratulations, it's twins, a boy and a girl."

"Who was first?" asked Sirius.

"Your daughter was firstborn, Artemis Doria Black, while your son was second, Apollo Arcturus Black," replied the nurse. "If you'd like, you can come in and see your wife and children."

"Excellent," said Sirius. He then turned to the Emperor, "I'll get you the gold later."

The Emperor waved it off, "Keep it, I'd just use it to get your sprogs a toy." He then followed the excited father into the delivery room.

Relaxing on the bed, which was a mundane hospital bed rather than the traditional wizarding birthing bed, since it was both more comfortable and offered better access for the healer, was Winona Black along with her two children. The one wrapped in a pink blanket had wisps of auburn hair, while the one in a blue blanket had nearly a full head of black hair already. Both were suckling at their mother's breast.

"Sirius, Jimmy," said Winona looking from her husband to her 'brother'. "May I present to you Aretmeis," she nodded towards the auburn haired, pink-wrapped baby on her right, "and Apollo," and she nodded to the black haired, blue-wrapped baby on her left.

Sirius was struck dumb upon seeing his children.

The Emperor just smiled.

"When did you get here Jimmy?" asked Winona.

"Just a few minutes ago, got here as soon as I could," he replied with a bit of a white lie.

"Got five galleons off me when he guessed right that Artemis would be first," replied Sirius, standing next to his wife. "May I hold one?"

"Here, take your son, he's finished," said Winona, pulling the back haired baby boy from her breast. Once Sirius took him, she covered herself up, then looked to her 'brother'.

"How'd your year of work go?" she asked.

"Well, I'm sorry I missed your wedding."

"As you can see, we've enjoyed your present," said Winona.

"I see, I assume you tested out each and every room?" he asked.

Sirius looked up, "At least once. She even insisted on trying out the cellar."

The 'siblings' chuckled.

"Well, I'm back for a while at least, though I wouldn't be surprised if I had to go on another extended trip in a few years," the Emperor added. "Unfortunately, I've finally lost my old flat on Knockturn, so I'll be looking at getting a place of my own. Likely up here in Scotland."

"Come, stay with us. It's not like we're hurting for room here," replied Sirius.

"Plus, you can be a live-in sitter for when Siri and I want to go out and have some fun," said Winona with a spark of laughter.

"Well, if you put it that way," said the Emperor.

"Plus, you'll get to meet Moony," said Sirius.

"That's your friend from Hogwarts, Lupin?" asked the Emperor of Sirius.

"Yep, he's living in the groundskeeper's house on the other side of the loch," said Sirius.

The Emperor looked to the healer and nurse still in the room, then back to Sirius and Winona, "I always thought it was odd that a man with his condition had such an auspicious name."

"It seems that most of Siri's friends at Hogwarts had such auspicious names. I think only James was saved from that fate. Remus and Peter both had names befitting their fate, and as well all know, Sirius is anything but serious," joked Winona.

The family talked amongst themselves for a few more minutes, before the healer and nurse finally made themselves noticed and got on with their jobs. Two hours later, once the twins has fallen asleep and Sirius had as well, the 'siblings' were alone once more.

"So, was it worth it?" asked the Emperor of his younger self.

"I should be asking you," she said. "How's it feel, not being stuck in this body?"

The Emperor chuckled, "I almost forgot how to be me for a bit, after spending a year as you, nearly messed up with Sirius when I got here."

"It felt so right, though, these last few months haven't exactly been comfortable," Winona acknowledged.

"Well, it'll be a few more years before we need to go through that again. I'd rather see Riddle disposed of before we do it again," said the Emperor.

"Instead we'll be living a double life, though at least we've got more than four hours of overlap," pointed out Winona.

"Yeah, it only took the Demesne two years to extend it to a day," said the Emperor with a sigh. "It'll be hard to deal with the looped causality though."

"There's always putting the memories away," pointed out Winona.

"But then, how would I know what to say?" asked the Emperor.

"Well, considering that before now, I'd always been the older one, I think it's better if we keep that up. You live the day, then turn back so I can live it too. My persona has always been better at handling the causal links," the new mother said.

"I still think it's unhealthy that we've separated ourselves as much as we have."

"Jimmy, we were already crazy, at least now we have an outlet for it," Winona explained.

"Now, let's get on with our lives. It's about time we dealt with Severus," said the Emperor decisively.

"He's under Siri's protection, I don't want to jeopardize his standing with Albus," pointed out Winona.

"Ah, but we've got two turners now, so rather than being in two places at once …"

Just then the lich nobodez appeared in the room, the golden chain of a time turner around their neck, "… we're now able to do three."

"Well, I guess I have my answer," said Winona, looking from her 'brother' to the lich, both older versions of herself.

"I think it best if we take care of him at the end of the year. I'd rather give Sirius the two months of summer to get ready for his position as Potions Professor than just two weeks," explained nobodez.

"Seems logical, and it'll give us time for me to get in good with both Albus and Severus," said Winona.

"And with nobodez doing the deed, and the lack of any known time turners in the UK, it'll keep his suspicions off of me," said the Emperor.

"Too bad we don't have another one, we could take out Karkaroff at the same time," said Winona.

"I'll send a note to the Demense to get another one ready by the end of June," said nobodez.

"Well, as much fun as this has been, I think we're putting enough strain on space-time as it is. I'll be both of you soon enough," said Winona.

"I'll take care of Sirius," said the Emperor, making his exit from the room with a turn of the golden hourglass, his body fading into that of the lich.

"This is so surreal," said nobodez.

"More so than the first time?" asked Winona.

"Much more, I think it's best if we use the memory extraction method for the next few years, separate ourselves further," replied the lich.

- Updated 09/10/13


	16. Chapter 16

Severus Snape looked at the letter, sneered, and then crumpled it into a ball before tossing it into the fireplace. He watched it burn for a minute, and then returned his attention to his breakfast. He didn't want to meet with Black's bitch, even if the man had given him the safety and respite he so needed.

The latter had been the sixteenth that the Black woman has written him, and while he'd read each and every one, noticing how each was composed anew with differing reasons for why she thought he'd might like to talk to her. While some of her reasons were valid, he hated Black enough that he now hated Black's wife as well.

Ten minutes after disposing of the unwanted correspondence, Severus was broken from his concentration by a knock at the door.

"Kreacher!" shouted Severus.

With a pop the house elf appeared. While it was not quite as broken in mind and spirit as it would have been had its mission to destroy the locket horcrux lasted for nearly two decades, it was still its Mistress' elf, and so sneered at the half-blood, "What does the half-blood want of Kreacher? Is it not enough that half-blood sleeps in Mistress' house and eat's Mistress' food, but that the half-blood calls upon Kreacher to do more?"

"Quiet elf!" demanded Severus. "There is somebody at the door, find out who it is, return here, and tell me."

"As the half-blood commands," said Kreacher with a sneer, and then disappeared.

Severus spent the next minute cleaning up his work area, putting the potions supply away. He'd returned from Hogwarts for the summer a weeks before, and he looked forward to the seven weeks he had left until he'd need to return to Hogwarts once more.

Kreacher reappeared with a pop, "There is a skeleton at the door, hidden from the nasty muggles, but not from Kreacher."

"A skeleton?" asked Severus.

"Kreacher did not lie, did not mis-speak, so half-blood must be deaf," jibed the house elf.

"Well, in that case, ignore it," said Severus. He turned back to his potion ingredients, "I will be having dinner in an hour, prepare me something that I will enjoy and will not harm me in any way."

"As the half-blood demands," said Kreacher, before disappearing once more.

Ten minutes later Severus head something odd, the door behind him opening, "Kreacher?"

"Not exactly," said the dark voice from behind Severus.

Severus turned and saw what could only be described as a walking skeleton, wearing a black robe edged with red He stepped sideways, trying to put more distance between himself and the only exit from, and entrance into, the room, "Who? What? How did you get in here?"

"Who? I am nobodez. What? I am a lich. As for how I gained entry, when you told the elf to ignore me, I let myself in," said the self-described lich, still standing in the doorway.

"How did you get through the wards? Albus told me nobody but a Black could get in here except with the permission of the key holder," asked Severus. He hastily patted his robe pocket, finding the no longer comforting shape of the keys inside.

"But I am a Black," replied the lich, taking the first step into the room, though still not leaving enough space for Severus to escape. "Said the vows and everything."

"Marriage? But the only Black that's been married recently is …" and Severus paused. He remembered where he'd seen robes similar to those worn by the lich. The colour photo that Draco had shown him of the wedding the previous spring, of Black to his new bride. The bride, as well as her brother, wore robes of black edged with red. "You can't be Black's bitch, you've not got the bones for a woman."

"Quite right, I've not the bones," said the lich. With a snap of a finger, which Severus had to admit didn't seem right for something without skin to be able to do, the lich was no longer standing between him and the door, instead Black's bitch was standing there, filling out the robe disturbingly well for someone, or something, that a moment ago was merely bones.

"But, Narcissa said you had children!" shouted Severus in alarm.

"I did, and I'll admit, it hurt like hell," she said, her voice no longer laced with the sub-harmonic echoes of the skeleton, but instead a bright and melodious quality that caused Severus severe cognitive dissonance. "There is more to magic than waving wands and saying garbled latin. There are beings in this universe, or perhaps even beyond it, that have power that you wouldn't believe. I'd hardly believe it myself had I not been made into a toy of one much being. I was once a flesh and blood person, not unlike yourself, though with much less anger. Then one night, instead of being asleep in my bed, I found myself in the middle of the Forest of Dean. I'd been made into what you'd seen before, and left to entertain the god that had stolen my life. And so, I did what I could, and made my plans. I knew where I was, and when I was, and so, I made an effort to right wrongs. I captured and destroyed five of your old master's horcruxes. I broke into Azkaban, killing all of the Death Eaters I found there save one, and assisting in my husband's escape. I then set myself a goal of killing all of the Death Eaters that had escaped Azkaban. I also killed Grindlewald, and after killing him added his Knights of Walpurgis to my list of targets. So far, only two Death Eaters remain, you and Karkaroff. He I will deal with eventually, but for my plans to succeed, I'll need you out of the way."

"What is you plan?" asked Severus.

"I could monologue, but I'd rather not, at least, not more than I already have," she replied. "Instead I will just tell you that from what I've experienced, while the process will be painful, it will not last long, and afterwards you'll not feel anything at all."

"So, I'm to die?" asked Severus.

"I will have your soul, so yes," the woman who was the lich replied.

"And what of Black, what are your plans for him?" asked Severus.

"I plan to have him installed as Potions Master of Hogwarts, taking your place. He'll mellow somewhat, the responsibility of teaching adding to those of marriage and children. He'll always be a rogue, but he'll be under control. I plan to have this identity die shortly after he does, and then I will continue my plan," she explained.

"And what if I stop you?" asked Severus.

"And how would you do that?" she asked with a chuckle.

"I have a wand, you do not, I could kill you quite easily," he answered.

"What is dead may never die," she said. "Also, we've been talking in your mind since before I entered the room."

"What?" asked Severus as the room around him faded into a white featureless plane. He looked around, and when he looked back, not only had the lich shed the illusionary form, it was no not an arm's length before him.

"Surprised that a natural occlumens like yourself could be surprised like that?" asked the lich. When all Severus could do was nod, the lich continued, "As I said, there is more to magic than waving wands and garbled latin. I've also stolen the memories of every Death Eater and Knight of Walpurgis I've killed. They've formed a gestalt, a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. In moments your memories, your soul, and a not insignificant amount of your magic will be joining that gestalt."

"And if I resist?" asked Severus.

"I am nobodez. You will be assimilated into the gestalt. I will add your memories and magic to my own. Your knowledge will adapt to service me. Resistance is futile," said the lich.

And Severus Snape knew no more.

- Updated 09/10/13


	17. Chapter 17

Severus Snape, or rather, the lich nobodez under a full illusion of Severus Snape, boarded the British Airways transatlantic flight from London's Heathrow to Boston's Logan airport. He knew, since this was his plan, that the plane, full of fuel for the transatlantic journey, would never reach its destination. It would never leave London.

As Severus Snape took his seat, he looked around, and saw that, exactly as planned, the plane was full, but not an innocent person, aside from the flight attendants and pilots, were aboard. Luckily the plan would account for their miraculous survival, thanks to a portkey. Let the Ministry of Magic come up with an excuse for how they survived, nobodez cared not.

It had taken months to plan the occupants of this flight, making sure that it was full of the worst criminals and terrorists that the lich could find in the United Kingdom and Ireland. Luckily it didn't need to be a full plane, just full enough for the airline to rationalize sending it across the Atlantic without selling seats to any last-minute innocents.

Once the door was sealed and the plane taxing, the lich set their plan in motion. With a wave of their wand everyone outside of the cockpit was unconscious. Then, the lich shed the Snape illusion, stood, and after enlarging the dead body of Severus Snape they'd kept in an extended pocket to take the seat they'd been occupying, set off towards the cockpit.

"How's everything doing back there?" asked the pilot as the cockpit door opened, assuming it was the flight attendant.

"Everything's going fine," said the lich, before stunning the copilot and navigator with a single spell and quickly placing the pilot under the imperius curse. After rousing them, he commanded, "Just get us off the ground without any trouble. Once we're in the air, I'll return and tell you where we're actually going."

As the pilot continued with takeoff, the lich gathered the flight crew into the cockpit. Once the pilot got them in the air, he too would be stunned, and then the flight crew would be sent to safety. nobodez would fly the plane, thanks to sucking the soul of a rapist pilot they'd discovered in the planning stages, and then deliver the payload of criminals, terrorists, and jet fuel to its intended destination, the Palace of Westminster. While likely not as easy to hit with a jumbo jet as a skyscraper, it would produce the desired political effects.

Now that the plane was in the air, the lich stunned the pilot and activated the portkey. Then, they settled into the seat in the now empty cockpit.

"Attention Heathrow Tower, this is Tom Riddle the Third," said new pilot of the jet, once again under an illusion, this time based on a twenty-something Tom "Voldemort" Riddle. "I've hijacked a plane, and unless my demands are met, I'm going to blow it up." It was a lie, but the eighties were still an age of hijackings and explosives, not crashing planes into landmarks. At least it wasn't yet.

Over the next ten minutes, as the Riddle flew around London, killing time and setting up the approach to Parliament, the RAF scrambled fighters into the air. They'd do no good, since as soon as they were close, the lich would send the plane into a dive and then apparate out. Even if they blew up the plane, it would still serve the lich's purpose. It would provide a solid alibi, at least when combined with the note left in Snape's handwriting explaining that he was running away to America to escape the threat to his life, as well as galvanize the populace of the UK. Tom Riddle the Third would be revealed as the result of the rape of a muggle by Tom Riddle during his rise to power in the early sixties, educated at Hogwarts under an assumed name, and then, once Voldemort was killed by Harry Potter, realizing his true heritage. He would be seen as willing to use muggle means to achieve his goal, the same as his father's, of magical supremacy. Luckily the multiple time turners would allow both Lady Black and her brother the Emperor to have alibis at Skyfall, including entertaining one Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. While it wasn't a perfect plan, the destruction of the time turners years before would provide enough doubt that they'd be beyond suspicion.

- Updated 09/18/13


	18. Chapter 18

Time is a delicate thing. Messing with it can get difficult.

The entity known as nobodez, a cross-time traveling lich, was, at this very moment, existing in four separate places at the same time, having used memory extraction to limit the potential for paradoxes.

The youngest nobodez was preparing to confront Severus Snape at 12 Grimmauld Place, keeping an ear on the radio, listening to the breaking news from the airspace above London.

The next oldest nobodez was disguised as "Tom Riddle the Third", piloting an airplane around the airspace of London, preparing to crash it into Parliament.

The oldest two instances of nobodez were entertaining friends and dignitaries at Skyfall, disguised as the Emperor, also known as Jimmy Shepard, and Winona Black. In attendance were many of the movers and shakers in Magical Britain, including Minister Bagnold, Headmaster Dumbledore, his Deputy Minerva McGonnagal, and the Widow Malfoy.

"So, who do you have set as next year's Defense Professor?" asked the Emperor of Headmaster Dumbledore. While the latter didn't exactly trust the former, the Emperor had provided much needed discretionary funding for Hogwarts, and had thus purchased a bit of social acceptance. It didn't hurt that the Aurors were unable to tie the Emperor to the deaths of the Death Eaters in Azkaban due to the presence of the Dementors providing explanation for the removal of their souls prior to death. Aside from the splitting of the soul during the creation of a horcrux, there was no known magic that could remove a person's soul aside from a Dementor.

"I had hoped to get one of the senior aurors to teach, perhaps even Bones or Moody, if the former could be convinced to temporarily step aside as Head Auror, or the later to come out of his recent retirement. Unfortunately, neither was willing, and so I've hired Yvonne Silverdale to teach this year, and hopefully the next as well," replied Albus, hesitantly.

"I've not met Ms. Silverdale, though, I'll admit, I've not met a great many people outside of Sirius' circle within Wizarding Britain. I've mostly been focusing on the Mundane realm: making contracts, acquisitions, political connections, you understand," the Emperor explained.

"She's technically a pureblood, but only by dint of having four magical grandparents," explained Albus. "That's the only way that I can get any Professors through the Board these last few years. Aside from that, she spent a couple of years as an Auror during the late Sixties and early Seventies, before she took a nasty curse. Unlike Alastor, she was unwilling to return to work after her six months at Saint Mungos, instead dropping into the Muggle World and spending the last decade in Canada. When I discovered that she'd recently achieved her Defense Mastery, through my connections with the ICW, I asked her if she'd be willing to spend a year teaching at her alma mater, before returning to Canada to teach there. It was only because of the generous donations you and your Brother-in-Law have made these last few years that I was able to offer her enough to overcome her hesitation."

"Glad I could help," said the Emperor.

Just then a middle aged man in a dark green robe and a bowler rushed over to Minister Bagnold, parchment in hard. The Minster blanched upon reading it, and then looked up, finding Dumbledore before striding over.

"Sorry to Interrupt, but there's urgent news from London," said the Minister.

"What is it?" asked the Emperor. He knew from his plans what should be happening, but since he'd forgotten what he'd done later the previous subjective day, as well as what he'd heard on the radio, he wasn't exactly sure.

"There's a Muggle Terrorist in a large passenger aeroplane above London," explained Bagnold.

"And?" asked Albus. "While it's not a good thing, I don't' see why it deserved interrupting the party."

"He claims his name is Tom Riddle the Third," gasped Bagnold. Her exclamation hushed the room.

In the just over four and a half years since nobodez had arrived in the world of Harry Potter, many changes had been made. Sirius Black had been broken out of prison, acquitted, married, and had children. Every marked Death Eather save two (or one, depending on objective or subjective viewpoints), Grindlewald, and most of his surviving (at least until their death) Knights of Wulpurgis, were dead, killed shortly after their souls were removed. Five of Tom Marvolo Riddle's horcruxes, all of the intentional ones, had been destroyed, leaving the accidental one in Harry Potter as well as the wraith of Voldemort himself, remaining.

But, perhaps the change most relevant to this discussion was the revelation of Voldemort's true identity.

"I was not aware that Tom had an heir," said Albus much casually.

"It gets worse, he's revealing the existence of the magical world," Bagnold continued through clenched teeth.

"He is?" asked the Emperor with a gasp.

"Yes, he's claiming, while talking over the wireless with the muggle aurors, Scotland Yard, though why they're called that in the middle of London I don't know," said Bagnold with a slight digression. "But I digress, he's claiming that he was born in the sixties, sired by Riddle before his rise as V … Voldemort," she still had trouble speaking the name, though she had no trouble calling him Riddle, a side effect of serving as Minister under the Taboo. "He was then raised under an assumed name, and only got his NEWTs after his father was killed."

"I'll have to examine the records at Hogwarts, but it's a likely chain of events, assuming that he truly is Riddle's son, and not under some delusion," replied Albus.

"And he's telling this to the mundane police over the radio, right?" asked the Emperor. "Seems like a Statute violation right there."

"It gets worse, the Muggle telly, they played a bit of his rant just now, that's how we found out, when a muggleborn flooed the Ministry," explained Bagnold breathlessly.

"Well, that'll make things difficult," said the Emperor.

"Difficult? Difficult?" asked Bagnold exasperated. "How can this not be anything but devastating? There hasn't been a breech of the Statute of this scale, well, ever. We're going to be fined heavily by the ICW."

"Well, I have an idea," offered the Emperor.

"An idea?" asked Albus, trying to get the conversation under control.. "Of how we can get out of this?"

"Of course. I own a significant stake in quite a few mundane newspapers, and have a bit of sway with the editor. If we can figure out a good excuse, preferably one that paints this 'Tom Riddle the Third' as some sort of lunatic, then I can get in published. Combined with the influence I have over the mundane media, newspapers and television in America and Europe, within a week of the first editorial we'll have the entire world believing that magic can't be real. We might have some difficulty with muggleborns accepting admission to Hogwarts, since they'll be more skeptical, but I believe it's the best option we have, since the world isn't ready for the Statute to fall."

"You'd do that?" asked Bagnold.

"Of course. I may not have been born here, but I'm a British in my heart, and my home, and more importantly, my family, is here. I'll do what I can do keep it safe for them," explained the Emperor.

- Updated 09/18/13


	19. Chapter 19

Four people sat in the living room of a small yet fashionable flat in the City of London, three men and one woman.

The noblewoman took a sip from her cup of tea, then sat it down on the table in front of the couch she shared with her brother, "I'm just not sure that the attack on Parliament is getting the desired outcome. Sure, we've gained influence with the Ministry of Magic, but at what cost? How many died by our hand?"

"Seven hundred thirty-five, including the terrorists on-board," said the terrorist, stretched out on a love seat. "I've also begun to get contacts from various terror organizations around the globe. They're low-level now, but with a bit of work, I should be able to begin to mold them by the end of the decade."

"Just in time for the NAFTA plans to take effect," continued the lich, posed elegantly in the wingback chair. "Combined with the influence we'll gain by supporting pro-EU MP's in the wake of the attack, and that's two continents headed more resolutely towards federation."

"Luckily we were able to abort the Falklands War, and so Britain is still on good terms with Argentina. That'll be our in-road into South America. And once South Africa drops Apartheid, it'll form one of the bases in Africa, in addition to Kenya and Sudan," added the imperialist fourth, sharing the sofa with his sister.

"Now we just need to get Russia into a more stable position, India into a regional leadership role, and China to soften enough to drop their support for the DPRK, and we'll have the first phase completed worldwide," said the lich in summation.

"I'm still not sure this is the right way to go about this," cautioned the noblewoman. "We're running out of room ahead of the butterflies, and by the end of the century, we'll be wholly in untested waters."

"What about our progress on the scholastic front, now that Snape's dead?" asked the terrorist, changing subjects.

"Oh, well, it was disturbingly easy to persuade Albus to put Sirius into Severus' old position, what with the support of Cissy, and thus the purebloods on the Board of Governors, as well as the financial leverage provided by our donations. He'll succeed or fail on his own merits, but he's already shown a good first step by talking with Minerva, Fillius, and Pomona about their expectations. And with Aurora taking the position of Head of Slytherin, he'll be able to focus on potions," explained the noblewoman.

"I just wish Albus would hire more than one professor per subject," said the lich.

"I know, and we're still working on figuring out the curse Riddle put on the Defense position," agreed the imperialist. "Let's just hope that once we take care of him, it'll fade."

"Speaking of which, I got a letter from Flamel yesterday. He's refused to provide Albus with a cunning forgery should he ask to help secure the stone," noted the noblewoman. "We may have to steal it ourself should circumstances remain."

"Now he'd make a nice snack," commented the terrorist. "Not to mention how useful the Stone would be."

"I'd rather wait until after we've taken care of Riddle," countered the lich. "And even then, I'm not sure if we should. Killing evil doers, that's fine, properly grey, but taking out a near immortal alchemist, well, that seems like a bit too much karmic debt. Especially with how much we've still got to accrue before The Plan is complete."

- Updated 09/18/13


	20. Chapter 20

"So, you're Hogwarts' new Potions Professor?" asked Remus at dinner. He sat across from his best friend's brother-in-law, though the so-called Emperor was focusing more on his young niece and nephew, than the content of Sirius' announcement.

"I'm surprised myself, but then again, I did get an Outstanding on my Potions NEWT," said Sirius confidently. "Luckily I won't have to do it alone."

"You won't?" asked Remus.

"I pointed out how difficult it must be to have almost no free time while teaching," explained Winona, who sat at the opposite end of the table from her husband, and was trying not to get distracted by her children. "I mean, with four periods each week for the first through fifth years, and then two periods each week for the sixth and seventh, that leaves only one period each week where a professor isn't teaching."

"So, my lovely wife, who's no slouch with potions herself, and has a muggle teaching degree as well, is going to help out with the first years," explained Sirius.

"Well, I've got the degree, but it's American, so it's not like I could teach here in Britain, at least on the mundane side, with it. What I really want to do is repair the horrendous 'Muggle Studies' course that Hogwarts teaches, but Quirrel signed a five-year contract, and so won't be able to be replaced until the end of the decade. So, Albus is letting me both make Sirius' life easier, by taking his first year students and making sure they know the basics, and getting my foot in the door so that when, or rather if, Quirrel decides to leave, I'll be able to use my Associate Professor status to take over 'Muggle Studies'."

"Ambitious," noted Remus. "I'm surprised you've not tried to get into the Defense position."

Both Winona and her brother paled.

"Something wrong?" asked Remus.

"Riddle cursed it, or so goes the rumor," said Sirius in explanation. "It fits, since there hasn't the same professor two years in a row since before we were born."

"I thought that was just us scaring them off," joked Remus.

"Unfortunately not," said the Emperor. "Also unfortunate is that Albus doesn't believe that the position is truly cursed, and so won't let anyone in to investigate. Heck, he doesn't even want me near his school at all, I'm just lucky that he tolerates Winona, or else we'd never even have a chance."

"Chance at what?" asked Remus.

"Of breaking the curse, of course," said Winona. "As an Associate Professor I'll be able to examine all of the potential vectors, as well as keep the worst of the damage away from the students."

"And what your children?" asked Remus, glancing to the twin toddlers.

"I'll watch them when Winnie is at Hogwarts, much like I do most of the time anyway," the Emperor explained.

"About that, how can you be an Emperor, if you're spending all your time looking after your niece and nephew?" asked Remus.

"It is mostly economic right now, strategic investments in various companies and politicians. It's not like I've not got the time. Might as well get most of the work done from behind the scenes, so that once it's done, and I step into the spotlight, nobody can connect me with my mistakes, only my successes."

"Mistakes?"

"I've made a few," replied the Emperor musically.

"Jimmy, stop with the mundane references," chided Winona.

The Emperor blushed, "Sorry."

"Luckily I've also convinced Albus that since I'm not exactly a full-time professor, and I won't be a head of house like my predecessor, that I'll need a few nights off each week to come home to my family."

"We'll both do Hogsmede weekends, perhaps even with Jimmy along to watch our backs and the kids," added Winona.

"You expect problems at Hogsmede?" asked Remus.

"While there aren't any more Death Eaters out there, there are still those that secretly, or not-so-secretly, supported them. I've made it plain that I oppose anything that deals with them, and unlike Albus, I'm not afraid to get my wand dirty," said the Sirius

"You'd use lethal spells against school children?" asked Remus aghast.

"Of course not," said Sirius quickly. "I'd use stunners on them if they attack me, and Jimmy's got some very effective toys that can put someone down without killing them, and they won't be getting up with a simple enervation."

"Toys?" asked Remus.

"I've made no secret that I'm not exactly Light in my methods," explained the Emperor. "So, I play around with various weapons. In addition to the standard stun rounds I used in Sirius' breakout, I've got an improved one I recently developed based on the Drought of the Living Death. Puts whomever is hit into unconsciousness for six hours minimum. It's also good against larger threats, like trolls, giants, and the like, though you need a bit more than just a single round to take them down, but once they're down, they're down for six hours." He then smiled, and said in a badly affected Southern American accent, "I guarantee."

"Werewolves?" asked Remus cautiously.

"Well, yeah, though since you've been on the potion for a while, you're not a target, but it'll take down a werewolf or a vampire too," he explained.

"Could I have one of your 'toys'?"

"Well, just like Sirius, I'll have to teach you how to use them first, but yeah, it should be fine," replied the Emperor.

"To a different, and hopefully lighter, topic, how did things work out with Tiffany?" asked Sirius.

The Emperor shrugged, "We broke up."

"That's the third one in as many weeks," exclaimed Sirus. "You're worse than I was at Hogwarts. I at least averaged two weeks."

"Dear, the dinner table, in front of your wife and children, is not the proper venue for discussions of your pre-marital conquests," Winona chided.

"And what is?" asked Sirius, wagging his eyebrows.

"If front of me? That'd be foreplay," she smirked. "Otherwise, it's boys talk, and should be reserved for the den."

"I'll have to remember that," said Sirius with a smirk.

Later than night Winona, the Emperor, Tommy, and nobodez once again meet in their private room.

"How's Tiffany doing?" asked Winona.

"I'm not sure, but I'm pretty sure conception occurred. We'll know for sure soon," explained the Emperor.

"And Melanie?" asked Tommy Riddle the Third.

"Confirmed, Yolanda too," said the Emperor.

"So, two confirmed and one pending. What about the next one?" asked nobodez.

"I've got Cassandra lined up, she's at the right point in her cycle, and I've confirmed she's willing to take the child to term," said the Emperor.

"Good," said Tommy.

"Are you sure this is the best way?" asked Winona.

"Well, it's similar to the plan I outlined to Sirius back before you arrived on the scene, the Africa Plan, but on a smaller scale. Plus, Tommy's hitting up the sperm banks in America, making sure to tick all the demographic and socio-economic boxes, as a sort of nature versus nurture argument." explained the Emperor.

"My arms getting tired just thinking about it," said Tommy lecherously.

"Eww, gross," said Winona.

"You know, sometimes it's hard to remember that we're all the same person sometimes," said nobodez. "Winnie is our feminine and nurturing side, Jimmy is the mogul and strategist, Tommy's our free agent."

"And you're our reality," replied Winona. "You're what we truly are, despite the facades we wear and our selective memories. We're not humans, not really, we're a monster with a plan."

"Exactly," said nobodez. "But, living vicariously through your various selves does have it's advantages."

"Speaking of living vicariously, Sirius is asking about another child," said Winona.

"Hmm, I think he'll get suspect if I disappear for the pregnancy again," said the Emperor.

"Perhaps remind him that you're both still young, and that you want to fix Hogwarts first before having another child."

"Plus we need to defeat Riddle," added Tommy.

"What about the Demesne, any way to get it to kick out a more powerful time turner?" asked the Emperor.

The lich thought for a moment, "It's an idea. Though twenty-four hours is already quite a long time. Wouldn't a year be a bit much?"

"We already know it conserves causality, and we've used multiples to travel back further than twenty-four hours anyway. Even if we can't do a single year-long turn, even making it a week will save some hassle, as that would require only fifty-two turns for a year, rather than seven times as many."

- Updated 09/18/13


	21. Chapter 21

"Come in, Professor Black," said Headmaster Dumbledore from behind his desk.

"Thank you Albus," said Winona Black, stepping into the Headmaster's office. "I've been an Assistant Professor here for four years, surely you can call me Winona by now."

Albus smiled, his eye twinkling softly, "Of course Winona, please do have a seat."

"Thank you," she said, taking a seat in the offered chair. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"As you are well aware, Professor Quirrel is planning on taking a year-long sabbatical before taking on the position of Defense Professor in a year's time. That leaves us with a position that needs to be filled, a position that you are both qualified for, and have expressed an interest in over the years."

"Muggle Studies," said Winona.

"The same," said Albus brightly. "While I'll admit your retorts of Quirinus' methods were a bit blunt, and the various alternative lesson plans you've provided the last three years have been enlightening, if unwarranted, you have shown a desire for the position."

"I just feel that it is best that we adequately prepare our students for the world they'll find once they leave Hogwarts. We do our students a disservice with the current content of our Muggle Studies program. Even with the adjustments Quirinus did following my suggestions it's still decades behind the reality of the mundane world."

"My point exactly, though I now have a problem in that if you take the position as Professor of Muggle Studies, your husband would have to take up the introductory classes that you've championed for the first years in Potions," opined Albus.

Winona smiled, "Well, I do have a suggestion. With the twins getting older, nearly five now, Jimmy's more than capable of taking care of them as their nanny." She stifled a giggle, "And thus, Skyfall has less need for a dedicated caretaker."

"Remus?" asked Albus.

"He's been giving simple lessons to Harry, and unlike my dear husband, has actually mellowed in the dozen years since finishing his education. Given that he's had his furry little problem well under control for years now, and with Padfoot available to keep Moony at bay, he'd be perfect to take over as Assistant Potions Professor."

"I would think he'd be more suited for Defense," offered Albus.

"He's as much my friend as he is my husband's," countered Winona. "And I've seen four different Defense Professors come and go in my time here so far, and after hearing the tales, I see no chance of that changing soon. Remus deserves more than a year, don't you think?"

Albus nodded, "You are, as you quite often are, correct in your observations. I do, though, have another option, considering how well you've done with our Potions curriculum. I think it would be good for our new students to have a consistent introduction to Defense Against the Dark Arts, despite the …" Albus paused, searching for the right word.

"Irregularity?" offered Winona.

"Yes, the irregularity of the Defense tuition," finished Albus.

"Why not both?" offered Winona.

Albus paused, thinking, "That … is a good idea."

"Thank you. So, shall I assume that you'll be offering both my old position, and the new position as Assistant Defense Professor to Remus?"

"I'll need to clear it with Minerva for the financial aspect."

"I'm sure I can convince Jimmy to increase his donations to cover the expense."

Albus chuckled, "Considering how many children your brother is supporting, can he continue to support Hogwarts?"

"Albus, despite my brother's bastards, acknowledged or not …"

"And I do so look forward to when your nieces and nephews make up a significant minority of the Hogwarts population," interrupted Albus snidely.

"As I was saying," said Winona pointedly. "Despite the generous support he's given to his offspring, and the donations that have enabled Hogwarts to employ me these past four years as well as all the upkeep that had been deferred for far too long, his wealth has only grown. He's even begun to consolidate his various companies, though it's nearly got as many heads as a hydra."

"Quite interesting, and I do apologize for my uncouth remarks," said Albus contritely.

"I'll make sure not to pass along either to Jimmy," Winona said with a smirk.

"My sincerest thanks."

- Updated 09/18/13


	22. Chapter 22

"We'll see you tonight pup," said Sirius, patting his godson on the shoulder.

"I don't see why I can't just apparate with you and Aunt Winnie up to Hogwarts. Why spend my entire day on a train when I can just sleep all day and pop up just before the feast and be done with it?" asked Harry.

Winona Black kneeled down in front of Harry. He wasn't her godson, that was for Alice, still in the spell damage ward of St. Mungos, at least until the Stone could be secured from beneath Fluffy. No, she wasn't his godmother, but she was an adoptive aunt, much like she remembered her 'Uncle Frank' from her previous life. And while he hadn't been abused by the Dursleys, she was, in her humble opinion, a much cooler aunt than Petunia ever could hope to be. "Harry, I didn't go to Hogwarts, so I can't give you an example from my own experience, but here's how I understand it. When the train leaves the station, and until it arrives at Hogsmede, there are only three non-student adults aboard. One is the conductor, the other is the sweets lady, while the third is a chosen professor; this year that's Assistant Professor Lupin. Aside from them, it's just students aboard, and for the six hours or so it takes to travel to Hogsmede, you students are mostly unsupervised, which means that it allows you all to get to know each other, without the specter of adults to limit you. So, take this as an opportunity to meet your fellow first years."

"But I already know most of them," complained Harry. "I know Draco and Neville and Ron and Ernie. I know Susan and Hannah and Mandy and Daphne. I even know Blaise and Millie and Zach and Sally too. I've already got friends, why would I need to know anyone else?"

Winona sighed and shook her head, "Okay, here's a challenge, I want you to introduce yourself to every first year, meet them and get to know something about them. Then, if you can prove to me that you know them, I'll convince the Headmaster to let you apparate back with Sirius and I at Christmas." She stuck out her hand, "Deal?"

Harry thought for a moment. He already knew over half of his classmates, beyond even the ones that he'd mentioned. He'd be able to meet the other half, and then tell Winnie, and then he'd never have to spend six hours on a train doing nothing again. So, he took his 'aunt's' hand, and shook it, "Deal."

Harry didn't hear the brief conversation between his godfather and Winnie as he made his quickly way onto the train, his trunk having been shrunk by Sirius and his owl, a pure white Snowy Owl he'd named Hedwig that he'd gotten for his birthday from his 'Uncle' Jimmy, having flown ahead.

"You tricked him," said Sirius with a smile.

"I did no such thing," countered Winona.

"My little Pooh," he said, using the endearment she literally hated herself, or rather Jimmy, for introducing him to via stories to their twins. "You know as well as I do that, if she gets to know all of his classmates, he'll realize that this is the best time for them to hang out without professors or family, or in our cases both, able to interfere."

"Just because I know he'll want to go back, doesn't mean I tricked him. I'll ask Albus just the same, and we both know that Albus will allow it, just to have Harry ask to be allowed to travel by the Express back at Christmas."

"Are you sure you're not a Slytherin?" asked Sirius.

"I didn't got to Hogwarts, dear, so how could I have been a Slytherin? Plus, you've been a professor for five years, you know as well as I do that the Snakes can be just as good, or as evil, as the Lions. Ambition and tradition are as uplifting or corruptive as bravery and daring."

Sirius nodded, "Of course, well, what shall we do with ourselves? Jimmy's got the twins all day, along with a couple of his own runts, and we're not needed at the castle for another five hours."

Winona, thinking of what she had planned for after the Sorting, smiled, "Why don't we go see a film? I could use the distraction."

Sirius kissed his wife, and they disapparated with a slight pop, still in their embrace.

- Updated 09/18/13


	23. Chapter 23

Quirinus Quirrel awoke suddenly, and was almost as quickly afraid. He didn't remember falling asleep, which means he was likely stunned shortly after what he did remember last, which was entering his quarters following the Sorting.

"Master?" he asked, as he took in his surroundings. The room was plain, walls an almost pure grey, with the ceiling and floor the same color. What worried Quirinus the most, though, it that he could not see where the light was coming from, and could not see any doors.

"What do you get us into?" asked the voice from the back of Quirinus' head.

"I know not," Quirinus replied. He stood from the chair, and was mildly surprised when it disappeared shortly after. "Interesting."

"What is?"

"The chair, it's gone," replied Quirinus.

"Where are we? Describe it to me," demanded the voice.

"It's a grey room, no doors, windows, or obvious light sources," he explained. He took the step between where he stood and the wall before him. "The wall is cold, like metal, or perhaps stone, though the texture is wrong for either, like paint."

"How big is it?"

Quirinus turned, "It appears to be a cube, about eight foot or so on a side." He strode the steps to the other side, "It's level, or as level as I can tell without tools, though something is off."

"Where is your wand?"

Quirinus looked down, and was only mildly surprised to notice that he no longer wore his clothing, though he could feel the turban that hid his master. Instead, he wore a loose tunic and pant set the same color as the walls, and the shoes were some plastic muggle clogs. A bit of a wiggle of his hips revealed that even his underwear was removed. "It appears I've been stripped. No wand, nothing else you had me carry either. All that's left is the turban you insisted I wear to hide you."

"I am not ready to be seen by the world."

"As you wish."

"Can you apparate?" asked the voice.

Quirinus tensed, and then let just enough of his magic flow to begin the disapparation process, when he realized that he could feel the tell-tale sluggishness from a well made ward, "No, they, our captors, whomever they are, are not as stupid as to leave such an easy escape for us."

Just then a pop, and the air pressure in the room changing, alerted Quirinus that while he was limited in escaping, entry was still possible, as least for whomever had entered.

"So, are you my gaoler or my fellow inmate?" asked Quirinus as he turned to face the newcomer. He paused as he caught sight of the skeletal form of whomever, or whatever, now shared the small room with him, and his master. "What are you?"

"Jailer," answered the skeleton. It wore clothes, a surprisingly well tailored suit and tie, of muggle fashion but obviously not muggle made. The odd hexagonal copper and silver symbol pinned to the lapel eye momentarily.

"And whom might my gaoler be?"

The skeleton in a suit paused for a moment, thinking, "Hmm, perhaps I should just kill you now, let you and your master rot in here for all time."

"And where, might I be so bold as to inquire, is this gaol of yours?" asked Quirinus.

"You may inquire all you like, but that is for me to know, and you … to not," answered the suited skeleton.

"So, it will be as that," said Quirinus with a sigh.

"Let me see him," demanded the voice from the back of Quirinus' head.

"Ah, Tom, you speak," said the skeleton, surprisingly brightly.

"Do not call me that! I am Lord Voldemort!" demanded the muffled voice.

Just then, the skeleton traced words in the air with the top of it's skeletal index finger.

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

The letters were then drug out of the phrase, and into another.

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

"Oh," said Quirinus, surprised at the simple anagram. "So the rumors are true then."

"What did he do?"

"I used your own words against you, Tom," replied the skeleton.

"You know, then, of my Lord's past?" asked Quirinus. "Beyond just what has been publicized by the so-called 'Emperor' Shepard?"

"I know much of your Lord's past. I know of his descent into the Chamber of Secrets, and his inability to keep his newfound pet a secret. I know how his quest for immortality changed him, made him less of a man, in many senses of the word. I know how, in his quest for power, he let ego once again overstep his ability, and lost his body to the machinations of a first generation witch."

"Lily Potter was but a speck, a mite of dust!" shouted the voice of Voldemort.

"Shut up Tom, your betters are speaking," countered the skeleton.

"So, this is about him, and not me?" asked Quirinus.

"As soon as you accepted him as your Lord, and took his spirit into your body, you were a dead man," explained the skeleton. "You may walk around, you may talk, and he might have convinced you that the Stone or even the blood of Unicorns would sustain you, but you are dead, you just don't know it yet."

"So, you are more than my gaoler, you are my executioner as well?"

"I am no such thing. I will provide meals for you, water, everything your body required to survive before you allowed Tom to accompany you. By my estimates, you have a few months before your body degrades enough that his presence will kill you."

"And what happens then?" asked Quirinus, accepting his fate.

"Then, well, then I stop the meals and water from arriving, of course," said the skeleton nonchalantly.

"And my Master, what will become of him?"

"I am immortal!" shouted Tom.

Just then the skeleton removed something from inside one of its pockets, a book of some sort. "I doubt that Tom," it said as it handed the book to Quirrel.

"What is this?" asked Quirinus.

"Open it," encouraged the unnamed undead.

Quirinus opened it, revealing a blank book, aside from a simple bookplate on the inside cover. He read it, and then looked to the skeleton, "This was my master's"

"A diary from his time at Hogwarts."

"Impossible!" shouted Tom. "Lucius promised me it would remain safe."

"Lucius is dead, Master," replied Quirrel. "He died a few weeks after most of your loyal Death Eaters were all killed in Azkaban."

"Dead?"

"I killed him," explained the skeleton. "That was, of course, after I killed the ones on island holiday, though Bella lasted the longest, until her death could serve a purpose. For she she too held a token of yours." Another item was retrieved from a pocket, this one an ornate bronze goblet.

"Describe it to me!" demanded Tom.

"It's a goblet or chalice, covered in images of badgers, with topaz and onyx jewels," described Quirinus. "Hufflepuff's Cup?"

"Just because you destroyed two of them, does not mean that I am no longer immortal!"

"Two of what?" asked Quirinus.

"Horcrux," replied the skeleton. "It's a device that holds a portion of someone's soul, tying it to the mortal world, so that despite dying, they still remain, a spirit with little form, and even less function."

"How many?" asked Quirinus. "How many did he make?"

"The diary, the cup, the locket," and with that, the skeleton removed an ornate locket on a silver necklace. "The diadem," another item was removed from a pocket, "And the ring." A fifth item, though missing it's stone, was removed and handed to Quirinus, who struggled to hold them in his hands.

"Impossible!" shouted Tom. "I still live."

"If you call it living," countered the skeleton. "No matter, I have revealed your end, Tom, and I hope that Quirinus here will serve you well until he dies."

"I will return, you cannot stop me!"

"Tom, I only left Quirrel alive because he served a purpose, getting you to a place I could abduct you from. You have no followers, I have killed them all save Quirinus here. Nobody in the world, or shall I say, on Earth, still holds your Mark."

Quirinus raised his eyebrows, the lessons of his Astronomy professor coming to the fore.

How would bother Quirinus until the moment he died, but somehow the skeleton smiled, "Ah, so Quirinus knows a bit about his fourth question."

"Who matters little, though you've admitted to being my Gaoler," summarized Quirinus. "What is readily apparent, as I am in a gaol, at least of some sort. When, well, you caught me just after the Sorting, though I suppose it could be hours, days, or even weeks later."

"About two days, the portkey took a bit of time," replied the skeleton.

"And that brings me to where. Combined with the length of the port key trip, and your comment about 'on Earth', I suppose we're no longer on Earth?"

"You are correct," replied the skeleton.

Quirinus bounced a bit, testing his weight, "I knew something felt off. Not Earth, but not too light either, so … Venus?"

A silent nod from the skeleton.

"I see, and why is rather obvious, you're Black's 'Grey Lord'. You eliminated the Death Eaters, as well as likely killing Grindlewald and his Knights. I suppose you're also behind that muggle terrorist named after Tom here?" asked Quirinus, pointing to the back of his head.

Another nod.

"The how, well, it could have been anything, a potion, a muggle drug, even a silent stunner."

"All three," answered the skeleton.

"I see, well, that does it then."

"That it does."

"And what are your plans for Earth?" asked Quirinus. "You've orchestrated the destruction of the last two Dark Lords to terrorize the world, so you have plans for it now that you're without rivals."

"Unite and rule," replied the skeleton. Then, slowly, flesh began to appear on the skeleton's bones, and revealed someone whom Quirinus had met a few times before.

"The Emperor, I should have guessed."

"In the flesh, so to speak."

"So, this is the end?"

The Emperor nodded, "This is the end. Eventually his last horcrux will die, and he'll finally go to his just reward."

"Wait, last horcrux?" asked Quirinus.

"I only made five, for when I tried to make the sixth … " said the voice of Tom.

"Exactly," confirmed the Emperor.

"I marked him as my equal, made him a horcrux," said Tom's voice somberly. "And now, he's all that's keeping my alive."

"The irony is nice, is it not. And what's better, there's almost no chance of anyone or anything arriving on Venus after Quirinus' death. Outside is seven hundred degrees of acid rain. There are currently three beings on Venus. When I leave, it will just be you two, and then, in the end, it'll be just you Tom."

"Have mercy," pled Tom.

"Mercy? You beg for mercy?" asked the Emperor.

"I'll give you anything you want!" shouted Tom.

"Offer me money," demanded the Emperor.

"Yes!" said Tom.

"Power, too, promise me that."

"All that I have and more. Please …"

"Offer me anything I ask for."

"I'll give you everything you want!"

The Emperor smiled, and with the smile, the illusion fell once more, and the skeleton again wore the suit. "I want you soul, you bastard!" and with that, it reached out for Quirrel's head, and grasped it, and began the process of draining both of their souls. Tom's actually comes first, as it was so little, and so much of it had already been drained for the horcruxes. Then, though, came Quirinus' soul, and with it the memories. The lich learned about how Quirinus was tempted with money and power by Tom, by Voldemort, and how, it was that temptation that lead him to offer himself freely to Voldemort's spirit, and that ultimately doomed him.

As Quirrel's dead body fell out of nobodez' grasp the lich stepped back from the cooling body. "Well, so much for all this work," they said, and then reached down, and with a pull of magic, sent the body of Quirinus Quirrel to the Demesne. They then stood, and with a wave of their skeletal hand, began to weaken the structure around them, until it broke, and the acid wind ripped through, melting the rock and searing the suit from the bones, until, finally, nothing was left of the jail created for Quirrel and Riddle. Then, even the lich disappeared, though instead of being eaten away by the boiling acid rain of Venus, they fumated, and began the journey back to earth, heading for orbit before starting the long series of portkeys from one planet to another. They had a Stone to steal, and perhaps find a way to collect the other two Hallows.

- Updated 09/18/13


End file.
